The Magical Bat Year II
by karanne
Summary: The second year of Mattie Wayne's magical education at Hogwarts.
1. Prequel, Second Year

The Magical Bat II.

#include stdDisclaimer.h: Batman, Catwoman, Alfred, Babs, Dick, Lucius Fox, and the others, are DC Comic's toys. Hogwarts, Albus, Minerva, the Weasleys and the others in the Potterverse belong to the fabulous JK Rowling. I'm just playing with them, and they'll be put back later. The Morton family is used with the permission of GITM. Everyone else, they're mine. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Copyright © 2005 Kara Anne Kalel karanne AT mindspring DOT com. All rights reserved. No money is made, and no infringement is implied or intended.

This is a sequel to my stories: The Bat & The Cat, redux, The Magical Bat, and Magical Bat: road trip.

* * *

1 – Prequel, Second Year**_

* * *

Saturday, July 3, 1999:  
_****_Ottery St. Catchpole, the Burrow garden (Weasley family home)_**

* * *

Albus Dumbledore asked, "And do you, Ginevra, take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, in sickness and health, for richer and poorer, for as long as you both shall live?" 

"I do."

"The rings, please." After a bit of fumbling, "Under the laws of Great Britain, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride." The organ played as the wedding certificate was signed and general excitement (and fireworks) were let loose.

**_

* * *

Saturday, July 10, 1999:  
_****_New York City, Central Park, 5th and 72nd street _**

* * *

Julie waved at her neighbor, calling "Hi, Beth!" Her blonde neighbor joined her on the bench, saying, "Julie, I'd like you to meet Miles, he's a co-worker at the UN." 

Miles dodged a cyclist, saying "Blimey, as bad as London!"

The two women laughed as a pair of inline skaters zipped past, followed by a young teenage girl jogging with a large dog. "So, Miles, the British legation, I presume?" Julie asked.

"Yes, both Elizabeth and I are in security work," Miles admitted, "Although in different agencies, of course. May I join you?" he asked, gesturing to the bench.

"My, my, this is more information than I had on my mysterious neighbor." Julie grinned, and patted the bench, "Tell me more, Miles. What agency?"

"Special Boat Service of the Royal Marines. Our mutual case involves Yanks at British boarding schools."

"Specifically, a certain school in Scotland that Connie will be going to in September," Beth said. Julie looked startled, as Beth said quietly, "Does the name Hogwarts ring a bell?"

"How?" Julie gasped, as Beth smiled.

"Come now, even the Times has run stories about the paranormal at Langley. You think you're the first reporter with a wizard relative?" Beth passed a business card over, adding, "I'm a graduate of Salem in Boston, myself. The Agency is concerned about a wizarding terrorist. He seems to be focusing on Americans at Hogwarts, which is why we're talking to you."

"But… shouldn't the FBI be involved?"

"If it was an American school, yes, they would. The Agency is involved because of the eight Americans currently enrolled at Hogwarts. Connie will be the ninth, and is the only American in her year. The Bureau is looking into the wizarding shops in Greenwich Village and Soho, along Seventh." Beth grinned, asking gently, "You thought Connie was the only witch in the city? She's not even the only witch in Central Park. The two skaters that almost ran Miles down go to Hogwarts."

"On average, witches and wizards are about one in a thousand," Miles said. "As far as we can tell, it's a set of regressive genes, and some of them can't do more than parlour tricks. We know several that work in casinos. Most of them don't even realize they're wizards. Your daughter is fortunate that she's the opportunity to train up in how to do things."

"But… terrorists? I don't know…" Julie said.

"There were incidents last year," Miles admitted. "Her Majesty was bloody awful about it, went there personally, and roasted the Headmaster over an open flame. Her grandson goes there, ma'am. That's a reason one of my mates will be teaching there as an adjunct instructor. Not only is he a Royal Marine, but a bloody good wizard in his own right. He'll be teaching self defense, and one of the students is offering classes in the martial arts. She's from Gotham City, a second-year that's a second degree black belt herself." He sat back on the bench; adding, "Do you see the girl coming up on the left in the grey top, running with the dog? She's the black belt I mentioned."

Julie watched the girl run past. Beth said, "We understand if you'd rather not have Connie go there. However, we'd like to have the chance to nail this terrorist, and we have a plan to protect her." The inline skaters rolled past, and Beth added, "Could you come by my apartment with Connie tonight, about eight-ish?"

* * *

"Julie, Connie, come in!" Beth said. "Can I get you something to drink?" 

"Rum and Coke?" Julie asked as she took a seat. "This has been an interesting day."

Beth mixed, giving Connie a Diet Coke and taking a glass of white wine for herself. "Well, you remember the saying, 'May you live in interesting times.'" The three clinked glasses, and Beth asked, "I'm sure you have all sorts of questions. I'll answer what I can."

* * *

"So, how long have you worked for the…" 

"CIA? Also known as 'The Company' in a lot of bad spy fiction?" Beth grinned. "Eight years, just out of Salem. Now, enough questions about me, any questions about Hogwarts?"

"Mom said there was something about a terrorist?" Connie said.

Beth nodded, "Lucius Malfoy. Right now, we don't know what his plans are, or how many allies he's got." She pulled a photo out of a file, adding, "He's a racist bastard, obsessed with enslaving and killing anyone who's not a 'pureblood' like him. Malfoy tortured and killed his own son Draco (another photo) when he dared to disobey orders to kill his schoolmates. Draco's haunting Hogwarts, by the way, so you can ask him yourself. However, since indications are that Malfoy's targeting Americans, we felt it better safe than sorry."

"Why not simply pull the Americans out of school?" Julie asked.

"We considered that. However, the Wizarding Ministry of Education would know that we know something, and indications are that some of them are in Malfoy's pocket. In addition, the current Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge (another picture) runs the Wizarding government as his own little kingdom. There's a civil war brewing there, one in which Americans are already involved."

"How so?" Julie asked.

"Remember the runner with the dog, and the two skaters I pointed out to you in the park?" Beth asked, and Julie nodded. "That's no dog, that's a British werewolf; she goes to school with the runner, one Martha Wayne from Gotham city. Both of them were kidnapped in January by Malfoy, the two skaters are fellow New Yorkers who were also kidnapped and tortured by Malfoy. All four of them are second-years at Hogwarts. Wayne was falsely imprisoned and tortured by Fudge. One reason we're concerned about Connie is that you received a note from the Ministry, asking for hair and blood samples?"

Julie nodded, "Yes, the note said it was a routine matter."

Beth shook her head. "Connie, a good rule of thumb is to never allow an enemy to gain possession of your hair or blood. There's too much dark and black magic that can be done with it." She sighed, adding, "Our plan is to run you in as a ringer. One of our people will take your place in Hogwarts; you'll simply be another American student. Different face, name, and so forth, and we won't tell the Ministry. The Headmaster will know to expect two new Yanks instead of one, and once in school, you'll be reasonably safe."

"I don't like the word 'reasonably'," Julie said.

Beth shrugged. "Aside from locking her in a steel vault, she'll be as safe as any other student at Hogwarts. If you decide to go along with this, I'll do a few small spells on you and Connie before you leave to match your documentation. Once in London, one of our agents there will meet you and be Connie's 'father' for other parents to see in King's Cross Station. Hogwarts does have email; we'll provide you with an appropriate account here in New York." She smiled, "That's just a precaution. Malfoy, Fudge and their cronies seem to be firmly fixed in the fourteenth century. We'll need to know your decision by Friday the 30th. Do you have any other questions?"

**_

* * *

Monday, July 12, 1999:  
_****_New York City, Fifth and 73rd, 15th floor _**

* * *

"Beth!" She put a hand out at Julie's voice, to stop the elevator from closing. The blonde smiled at her neighbor, asking, "How are you and Connie this Monday?" 

"Good." The doors closed, and as they rode downward, Julie added, "Regarding the … project we discussed? We're going to give a tentative go-ahead." The elevator stopped to let people on, and they fell silent. Once they were in the building lobby, Julie hung back, asking in a low voice, "We'd like more information. Can you come by tonight?" Beth nodded, asking, "Eight-ish?"

**_

* * *

Friday, July 16, 1999:  
_****_New York City, Central Park West, 22nd floor, Cortez apartment_**

* * *

A 'ding' and the soft announcement, 'You've got mail!' drew Shaundra's attention. Rolling over on her bed to grab a bookmark, the Arcus pendant and her magical temporary use permit dangled from her neck. She glanced at her laptop, and opened the message. 

_To: The Cortez twins, Arthur Morton  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Subject: Shopping ! _

_Hey, guys! Gotten your grades yet? I really blew the Transfig exam, how'd you do? Fingers and toes are crossed! Gaaa! _

_Only real news from here is that Mom and Dad got a couple of the Malfoy's spare house-elves, at least the ones that Hogwarts didn't snatch up. Retraining them not to grovel and cringe has been "fun" (meant sarcastically, of course!). The next step is to keep them out of public view during the social set (balls, soirees, etc. BLECH!). Arthur, be GLAD you don't have to be 'presented' as a debutante in a few years. DOUBLE BLECH! The last step is to actually get them to accept wages and days off! _

_sigh One thing at a time… _

_Aunt Sheila has to fly over to London to be inducted into the English Bar Association, or whatever they call it. Basically, it's so she can practice and handle our affairs and investments over there. She's flying over on Friday, August 20th, gets inducted Monday the 23rd, then gets RE-inducted into the Magical Bar on Thursday the 26th. You'd think once would be enough, but Nooo! _

_So anyway, we were thinking we could fly over with her and get all our shopping done. Run it by your folks, and let us know no later than Wednesday the 18th. I know it's a bit of a short notice – sorry about that. If your folks have questions, they can call us - you should have the number._

_Mattie _

_PS: Pack your laptops for school. Reliable information - hint, hint! _

She fumbled with her printer; then called, "Mom!"

* * *

"Arthur! E-mail!" Mrs. Morton called into the backyard. 

"I bet it's from your girlfriend," Billy, the youngest of the Morton family, said from the safety of the tree house.

"You know, I liked you better when you didn't talk so much," Arthur said as he gave the tire swing holding his little sister Julia one last push on the way into the house.

Arthur's computer was an ancient black and white Mac Classic II, without an Internet connection. When he got e-mail, it came to his mother's new G4 iMac, which he was seldom allowed to touch. Reading the message and replying to Roshawn and Shaundra took only a few minutes, but replying to Mattie took longer, as it always did.

_To: mwayne  
From: amorton  
Re: Shopping !_

_Mattie,_

_Sounds fun but I'll have to pass. Hank made starting cornerback during spring practice and I promised him I'd go to his first game which is August 27th. Since Teela made the cheerleading squad this year, that's another reason I have to go. (I fly out Columbus-JFK-London at 3 AM the 28th. 'Blech' right back at ya.) I am not looking forward to the crowds, but a promise is a promise._

_Have you considered owling Sprink and asking her if she wants to go shopping with you? She'd probably enjoy it more than me anyway. The only other news here is that I finally got glasses. _

_Arthur_

Looking over the letter, Arthur decided it said what it needed to say, but probably not everything that it could have said. He clicked 'Send' and once his reply was transmitted, deleted it and Mattie's message using a program that not only 'deleted' it, it also overwrote the appropriate section of the hard drive and emptied the RAM cache. The encryption and security systems the Waynes had shared with the Morton and Cortez families were extremely impressive, and Arthur wanted to keep it secure at his end.

"Well?" his mother asked as Arthur exited the walk in closest she'd turned into a home office. She gave her children as much privacy as she could, but since the Death Eater attack on Hogwarts the previous winter; she wanted details on anything magic related. There had been a long argument about whether or not to allow Arthur to return to Hogwarts, which she had lost.

"Nothing much," Arthur replied. He added, "Mattie asked if I wanted to head to England early to do some shopping for school. I said 'no' because I promised Hank I'd go to his first game as a starter." Pulling down a glass from the cabinet, he took it to the refrigerator and pressed the 'Crushed Ice' button.

"It took you half an hour to type that and send it?" she asked as her son stuck his glass of ice under the refrigerator's water tap and pushed the button. A slight exaggeration, but only a slight one.

"There was other stuff, but that was the main thing," he replied before drinking.

"Interesting that an 11 year old girl would send my 12 year old son a letter asking him to go shopping with her."

Arthur topped off his glass, then said, "Don't worry, Mom, she sent it to the Cortez twins too."

She raised an eyebrow, adding, "I'm allowed to be nosy."

"Yes, ma'am, you are," Arthur agreed with a smile. He took another gulp of ice water as he slipped out the back door.

"Gets more like his father every day," Mrs. Morton said to no one in particular.

_**

* * *

Sunday, July 18, 1999:  
Columbus, Ohio, Morton home  
**

* * *

_

"Arthur! E-mail!" Mrs. Morton called.

"Coming, mom!"

"Two in three days! When's the wedding?" Billy said from his side of the room. Arthur threw a handy pillow at him before ducking out the door.

_To: Arthur Morton  
__From: Sheila Hawking  
__Re: Re: Shopping!_

_Arthur:_

_Glad to hear about your brother and sister, and we completely understand. However, we aren't in favor of your wandering around London and Heathrow by yourself (no matter how competent you are). That's what family and friends are for!_

_I know your parents were concerned about the Death Eater attack on the school, so unless we hear differently from your folks, we plan to pick you up on the 28th. Arthur, we're concerned about your safety, which is why we've made arrangements for it. There's pride, and then there's common sense._

_Sheila Hawking_

_USMCR_

Arthur considered this, and hit 'Print' so his parents could see this. He knew his mother especially had been worried about his trip. He then hit 'Reply' and typed:

_To: shawking  
__From: amorton  
__Re: Shopping!_

_Yes, ma'am! I'm due in to Heathrow at 19:10 London time on American Airlines. Actual arrival time, I got no clue._

_Arthur_

_**

* * *

Monday, July 19, 1999:  
****Hogwarts, Headmaster's office**

* * *

_

"Mr. West! How pleasant to see you again," the Headmaster said. Waving his wand, he conjured two squashy armchairs, asking, "Tea? Lemon Drops? Is this a social or a business call?"

"Business, I'm afraid. Allow me to introduce a colleague from the embassy, Mr. Hansen," the ancient attorney replied.

"Ah, yes. What can Hogwarts do for the American government and the Central Intelligence Agency?"

Mr. Hansen looked at his colleague, who shook his head. The Headmaster smiled, asking, "This is in regards to a student, I presume."

"Yes, Miss Constance Koslowski. We have indications that she is being targeted by a terrorist, one Lucius Malfoy. We do not know what his plans are, or how extensive his organization."

"You also do not know how deeply he has penetrated the Fudge Ministry," Albus said. "He has connections, deep connections with senior Ministry officials." The other two nodded, and the Headmaster continued, "With tax revenue to the Ministry reduced, Mr. Malfoy has become a prime financial backer to Minister Fudge. There are only so many staff positions Cornelius can cut, and departments he can eliminate. He has concentrated on funding the DMLE and the Aurors, to ensure their loyalty." He steepled his hands, and regarded the two men. "This has not guaranteed his position, but it has reduced his risk, as various members of both agencies remain for their own reasons, some of which are not compatible with Mr. Fudge's."

The Headmaster took a sip of tea, asking, "This relates to Miss Koslowski in what manner?"

"We aren't sure," Mr. Hansen said. "We plan to substitute a ringer for Miss Koslowski and her mother with our operatives, and enroll her under a different name, as Miss Lee Fook. Naturally, we will use assorted spells to ensure success beyond a simple glamour or polyjuice spell. She will be funded through various cutouts, the New York branch of Gringott's has been most co-operative."

"I am to presume that you do not wish the Ministry officially informed of Miss Fook's existence?" Mr. Hansen nodded, adding, "We have engineered the appropriate paperwork through our own sources in the Fudge Ministry, so grades for her examinations and such may be reported as usual. We would appreciate your keeping this confidential, restricted only to yourself and," Hansen glanced at the Sorting Hat, "Alastair."

"Drat." Alastair said.

Albus chuckled. "If necessary, I will inform Minerva, but no other," he said. "I presume you are looking for authentic reactions?" The two men nodded, and he stood, shaking their hands. "Then we shall sort the two young ladies into different houses, and see what becomes of them."

**_

* * *

Saturday, July 31, 1999:  
_****_Azkaban Prison, Block A _**

* * *

"There you are, Nott. I was beginning to wonder." 

"My apologies, Lord Malfoy. There is a storm outside, the passage was very rough."

"Ah, yes," Lucius Malfoy said, glancing out the large windows of his 'cell'. He sipped brandy, adding "It shall pass. Did you bring the charms?"

"Of course, milord!"

"Good. Let us proceed. You shall have a relaxing holiday here, finishing out my 'sentence' for the next few months, whilst I will proceed with my plans, plans that have already been delayed far too long."

_**

* * *

Friday, August 20, 1999:  
London, Gatwick International Airport, Queen's Customs  
**

* * *

_

The lines were long to clear Customs, but we waited patiently. Others were not so patient, and cursing was heard as people seemed to fly through the 'Commonwealth only' booths.

"How many in your party?" the official snapped, as passports were presented.

"Four, including myself," Sheila replied. The Customs man suddenly stiffened and blanched, then said, "Please forgive me, ma'am. Please, go right through!" He stamped passports, and ushers came running up with carts. Curious, Mattie glanced at his screen, and saw a red flashing 'Queen's Favour' on his screen.

"Ms. Hawking?" the young officer asked. She nodded, and he asked, "May I see your passports, please?" He inspected them, and then returned them, saying, "This way, please."

"One moment, please," Sheila said. "The challenge is: 'Professor Harry is eight feet and hairy', and your response?"

"My apologies, ma'am. My response is: 'His eyes are green'." Sheila relaxed, and he smiled, saying, "Nought to worry, ma'am. Leftenant Martin, Queen's Own, Royal Marines. You're safe as in your mum's arms."

"I had spotted three of your men, but still…"

"Bother. You weren't supposed to. How, may I ask?"

Sheila grinned, "Major Sheila Hawking, United States Marine Corps Reserve."

"Ma'am!" the Leftenant said, saluting. "I was not informed!"

She passed over her Marine ID card for his inspection, saying, "As I don't have my cover, no need to salute, leftenant."

He passed it back, saying, "Yes, ma'am. Orders?"

"When you return to base, please make sure your information is updated, and let's proceed with your original orders."

"Ma'am! Please come this way. If we can get your luggage claims, we'll handle that for you. We have reservations for you at the Leaky Cauldron."

Sheila stopped. "The Cauldron?"

"Yes, ma'am. All my men are wizards and witches. This way, please."

* * *

Stopping at luggage claim, the leftenant passed over the claim forms to a sergeant, then motioned to a grizzled veteran, saying, "Ma'am, this is Sergeant Major Thompson, Royal Marines. Sergeant Major, this is Major Hawking, US Marine Reserves." 

The Sergeant Major braced, saying, "Ma'am!"

"At ease, SarMaj. Status?"

He relaxed, saying, "Luggage coming ashore now, ma'am. Estimate another ten minutes, if you wish the comforts."

"We'll do that, thank you, Sergeant Major."

He nodded, and barked, "McKinley! Evans!" Two young female Marines appeared, and he said, "Escort the Major here and the girls to the loo." He grinned at the curious expression on the twin's faces, and said, "Old warrior's advice, girls. Don't turn down the comforts." He elaborated, "Food, sleep, piss, beer and broads, although the last two wouldn't apply, I 'spect."

_**

* * *

Saturday, August 28, 1999:  
London, Heathrow International Airport, Queen's Customs  
**

* * *

_

Arthur waited in line, his carryon duffel being kicked along with the line. Eventually, he got to the booth, where the official asked, "How many in your party, mate?" as Arthur offered his passport.

"Just me, sir. I'm being met," Arthur added, as he cleaned his new glasses.

The Customs man smiled, then suddenly stiffened and said, "Right-o, mate! English schools, finest in the world! Enjoy your stay, and please, go right through!" He stamped Arthur's passport, and turned to see Major Hawking standing with a Royal Marine a few yards away. Arthur turned to see a red flashing 'Queen's Favour' on his screen as he was waved through customs.

"Major Hawking," Arthur said. "Thank you for meeting me."

"No problem, Mr. Morton. Allow me to present Leftenant Martin of the Queen's Own Regiment, Royal Marines." Arthur nodded politely, and Sheila added, "Leftenant?"

"Right-o. Mr. Morton, we'll collect your baggage, and then it's off to the Leaky Cauldron for the night. The plan is you'll have a bit of time for shopping tomorrow on Diagon Alley, and then we'll see you off on the train September first. "

_**

* * *

Sunday, August 29, 1999:  
London, The Leaky Cauldron  
**

* * *

_

A loud knock startled Arthur. Major Hawking's voice was heard, calling "Arthur, its 06:00! You ready?"

He swallowed, then answered, "Yes, ma'am. I'll be down in a minute." He heard the creaking of the floorboards in the old inn as she moved away, and then dived for his trunk, muttering, "No time for a shower. Damn, I hate jet lag."

* * *

"G'day, Mr. Morton," Tom, the ancient owner said. "They're in there, be wi' ye in a tick." 

Arthur replied, "Thank you, sir," as he pushed open the door.

* * *

"So, what have you lot got left to do?" Sergeant Major Thompson asked as he drank his tea. 

"Pick up my new robes and uniforms, and my potion stuff," Mattie said. "Arthur?"

"Um, just my potion stuff and textbooks, sir. I don't need new clothes, these are fine."

The Sergeant winked at Major Hawking, and said, "Don't call me sir, I WORK for a living! Got that, son?" Arthur looked confused, but nodded.

"Your father's Navy, isn't he?" Arthur nodded, and Major Hawking continued with a smile, "That explains it. The squiddies have never understood about real work, have they, SarMaj? Besides, your clothes need replacing. You've grown a couple inches since last September."

"Too right, Major," the Sergeant agreed. He set down his teacup, and poked a beefy finger at Arthur. "One thing you'll learn, son, is to never, ever, disagree with the ladies about clothing. You want to be shipshape and Bristol fashion to start school." He looked at the twins, and asked, "Now then, what about you two?"

They glanced at each other, then one said, "Pick up our new uniforms and robes, potion supplies, and I wanted to look through the bookstore again." The other twin said, "Quality Quidditch for me."

"Then it's agreed," Major Hawking said. "Uniforms, then I will leave you in the SarMaj's tender mercies while I meet with a colleague, and Arthur, please stop by the clock shop." He looked guilty, and she continued, "You will follow the SarMaj's orders, and we'll meet at 13:00 back here. Leftenant, is that suitable?"

"Most suitable, ma'am. It's 06:45; the shops open on the tick of 07:00. That gives this lot plenty of time to clean up. SarMaj?"

"With your permission, I'll detail a personal escort to each, which will allow us to split up." The leftenant nodded, adding "So ordered, SarMaj."

As people started to leave, Arthur hung back, asking, "Major?"

"Yes, Arthur?"

"My mom took care of my robes, I really don't…"

"Arthur?" He looked up at her, and she knelt next to him, and said quietly, "It's taken care of. Don't worry about the money; we've arranged it with your family. The Wayne foundation does this kind of thing all the time. Go with Mattie, she'll take care of the details."

**_

* * *

Sunday, August 29, 1999:  
_**_**London, Diagon Alley  
**

* * *

_

Diagon Alley was always bustling and wild. Aside from witches and wizards in town for the day, you had college girls in jeans, businessmen talking outside at the Wooden Goblet pub on their cell phones; and teenagers in both wizarding and muggle clothing talking and laughing together. The Americans fit right in.

Arthur Morton dodged a shopkeeper's assistant outside the cauldron shop, and ducked with the rest into the robe shop. The animated mannequin in the window turned to display the new robes as a witch said, "G'day, there! What can we do for you?"

"Wayne and Cortez, picking up our school robes," Mattie said.

"Right-o. Up on the stands, please. It'll be just a tick, and we'll do a final fitting." She walked toward the back of the shop, calling, "Lav! Parv! Fitting for Wayne and Cortez!" A busty blonde hurried out to join her friend, neatly folded robes in hand as Arthur found a seat. She eyed him, then asked, "What about you, luv?"

Arthur coughed, and said, "No thanks. My mom took care of it already."

"Right-o. Spells renewed and all?" Arthur smiled, and she asked the girls, "Who's first?"

_

* * *

_

The bell over the door rang at Zabini Apothecary, and Blaise looked up, waving and calling "Mattie! Be right with you!" Mattie waved back, and Blaise returned to helping an older woman with a stuffed vulture on her hat.

"Hello. What can I do for you?" a fellow in a red company shirt asked. Mattie looked at him, and then said, "Neville isn't it?" He nodded, and then said, "You're Mattie Wayne, aren't you? We've got your stuff ready to go. Second year Hogwarts, right?"

Mattie nodded, and said, "Right, and also for Morton and the Cortez twins." Neville nodded, and levitated four packages onto the counter while the twins looked around.

"How are you doing, Mr. Morton?" Arthur looked up, and saw the smiling face of Professor Harry.

Arthur looked at him, and then asked, "Excuse me, professor. What are you doing here?"

Harry looked down at his red company shirt, and said, "Oh, this? I've invested a few galleons in the shop, so I thought I'd come help out during the rush." Hermione Granger overheard this, and muttered, "A few galleons, he says. Ha!" Harry glanced at her, and continued, "So anyway, this is a particularly busy time, and I'm not above getting my hands dirty. What are you lot doing? Looking forward to school? Thinking about trying out for Hufflepuff's Quidditch team, Mr. Morton?"

Arthur shook his head, "Sorry, I'm not that good a flyer. I'll stick to basketball and chess."

Harry smiled, "I need to introduce you to my friend Ron. Best chess player I've ever met. He's even beaten Minerva, which is saying something."

Arthur slowly said, "I'd like that, professor. Thank you."

"No problem. As a matter of fact… Hermione, do you have the order for the Wheeze ready yet?"

"Except for the ashwinder eggs in the fridge, yes." She had an amused look in her eyes, and said, "I'll get them wrapped up. Won't be a minute."

* * *

Harry stopped, and said, "One cardinal rule about the Wheeze: Never eat anything here." 

"Professor, are you investing in this place also?" Shaundra said, pointing to the large banner with Harry's face.

"Yes, I have. Mattie, you know Ian MacDonald's working here?"

"Cool!" Mattie pushed open the door, hearing the Weasley version of a doorbell: a loud rip of flatulence. It was a madhouse inside, with Fred, George, Ginny and Ron on the floor, helping the customers while Ian and Lee Jordan worked the till. Harry introduced Ron to Arthur, and Ginny yelled, "Harry! Dive in!"

Harry waded over to her, and said, "Can't, love. I'm with Blaise today. I brought over your potion order."

"Are you REALLY Harry Potter?" a wide-eyed young boy asked. Harry smiled and nodded, and was rescued by Fred (or was it George?), who yelled, "Oi, Harry! In the back, mate!"

* * *

"Doing well, I see," Harry chuckled. 

Fred mopped his brow, "That we are, mate, that we are. Thanks for recommending Ian, he's a wonder." He poked at the order, and said, "Everything here?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno. Hermione put it together. Take out the eggs, mate."

"Good enough for me," Fred said, and signed the invoice, giving a copy back to Harry and pulling out the ashwinder eggs, putting them in a muggle freezer.

"Later, mate," Harry said.

"Later, Professor Potter," Fred said with a grin. Harry shot him a look and left.

* * *

"I hope none of that's going off in my class, ladies," Harry said to Mattie and the twins with a grin, who blushed. He grinned at them, and then collected Arthur, who was looking at various items. The Wheeze ranked items using a wand system. One wand you could give to an infant, while ten wands rated 'death & destruction'. The ten-wand rated items were securely locked in a display case.

* * *


	2. The Hogwarts Express

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
(Thanks to GITM for the Hat's song - I am NOT a poet!)

**

* * *

2 - The Hogwarts Express**_**

* * *

Wednesday, September 1, 1999: **__**

* * *

London, King's Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4 **_

* * *

"G'bye, Mom, Dad. I'll write often!" the young Chinese girl said with a hug. 

"Mattie will keep an eye out for her," Selina said, offering her hand. "Bruce and Selina Wayne; and our daughter Mattie. We went through the first-year jitters last year," she added with a smile.

"It's really easy. Watch the twins," Mattie said. She grinned at her parents; then said, "I'll keep an eye out for her." First one twin, then the other charged through the seemingly solid brick column, vanishing after Arthur.

"'Kay." The girl screwed up her courage, and ran at the wall, coming to a stop on the platform. The elderly guard motioned her out of the way, Mattie reappearing a minute later. "Wow. That's… "

"Magic? Still amazes me." Arthur held out his hand, offering, "Arthur Morton, Columbus, Ohio. You're a firstie, I take it?"

"Lee Fook, from New York," Arthur looked at her quizzically, and she waved it off. "Yeah, yeah. What can I say; Mom was insane when I was born."

Mattie chuckled, while Arthur got a distant look in his eyes. Mattie winked at him, saying, "Haven't met any vampires yet, but the werewolves I know are cool."

"Waitaminute," Lee said, grabbing Arthur's sleeve. "Werewolves _exist_?"

"Sure, there's one in my house, and another in my study group. Let's get your trunk on board; that was the ten-minute whistle."

* * *

"Is this compartment taken?" Lee asked. A very tall fellow waved her in, as Arthur floated her trunk into the middle of the floor, then smiled and left with Mattie. 

"Hartley Ravensworth, Cheltenham," the tall fellow said. "By your accent, you're a Yank?" he questioned. Lee nodded, "Meet your countryman, Connie…"

The blonde sneered, "Connie Koslowski, of New York City." She returned to her book.

Lee shot a withering look at Connie, adding, "Lee Fook, also of New York City." The train jerked, and started to pull out of the station. She asked, "What about the rest of you?"

"Stephanie Keyes, London," a long-haired brunette said.

"Daphne Ballantyne, Hogsmeade," a short-haired blonde said. "Pity I can't commute to school, it's only a fifteen minute walk."

"The drawback is that your parents are right there if you get into trouble," a fellow said with a French accent. "I am Louis Bourmont from Sarrebourg, France. Enchante'"

"Why didn't you go to Beauxbatons?" Stephanie asked.

"I would rather not discuss it, if you please."

"What about you two?" Lee asked a silent pair.

The dark haired girl answered, "I'm Violet Pellew, and this is my half-brother Jeremy, from Fredricton, New Brunswick."

"What do you know about the Sorting?" Stephanie asked. "Mum wouldn't tell me. Do you know if we have to sing or dance or anything?" Connie snorted, and Daphne added, "Neither would my parents."

"Well, Connie, you obviously know something we don't. Spill it," Jeremy said.

"I plan to be in Slytherin before the day is out," Connie said, and returned to her book.

Hartley stretched a long arm out, and snatched her book, holding her off with the other hand. "My, this is an interesting volume. 'Three hundred dark charms, volume two'."

"_Accio book_!" It flew back into her hand, and Connie smirked, "Be glad I didn't use any of these on you."

* * *

"Anything from the trolley?" a voice came in the compartment. Stephanie glanced around; then called, "No thanks!" She looked at the other people, "Mum said that when the trolley comes by, it's time to change to your uniform. If the boys will wait outside, we'll be as quick as we can."

* * *

"Bloody tights…" Connie cursed. 

"Never worn hose before?" Lee asked. "You've got a run in the left leg, get a new pair and hurry up, the boys are waiting. We don't want to perpetuate the stereotype of girls taking forever to get dressed, do we?"

* * *

"Sorry, mates," Daphne said as they opened the compartment door. "Beauty takes time." The five girls squeezed out into the gently rocking corridor as the boys went past them. Other students stood outside their compartments, chatting as a redheaded witch moved down the corridor. As she stopped to talk to people, Lee suddenly found herself snout to nose with a large black panther. He smelled her; then changed to Connie, jumping up to lean against the compartment while he sniffed her. He pulled back, regarded her; sniffing again, a low, rumbling growl coming from his chest. 

"Shadow!" The redheaded witch called, lightly slapping the panther's shoulder. He 'whuffed', eyed Connie again, then changed to Daphne. The witch apologized, "I'm sorry about Shadow. I don't know what gets into him sometimes." Shadow had finished Stephanie, and changed to Violet, who actually was rubbing his head. He purred, and licked her face.

* * *

"Firs' years o' here! Firs' years, o' here!" a huge man called, holding aloft a lantern. He was at least eight feet tall, with bushy hair, a ratty beard, enormous coat, and beetle black eyes. 

"Hagrid!" Daphne called, and he waved, calling, "'Lo, there, Daphne! 'Bout time, eh? Welcome to Hogwarts!"

"Who's that?" Jeremy asked.

"That's Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds, and the Care of Magical Creatures professor," Daphne explained, as she chivvied her companions toward him. "Oh, I'm so excited! Tradition is firsties like us ride across the lake with him, and I'm _finally_ going to take that ride! I'm actually here!" She pointed at the enormous castle, lit up against the twilit sky, adding, "Isn't it gorgeous?"

* * *

"Right, now," Hagrid said. "We're going tae cross to the castle now, so follow me. If ye' fall in, dan' worry, the squid in tha' lake will fish ya out, na trouble. E'ryone ready?" He walked down to a wooden dock, and called "Four to a boat, ye' don't need ta row. Thirty four a' ye, so two wi' me, now!" 

As the boats moved slowly across the lake, the castle loomed even more as they drifted into a cavern under the lake, and a cloud of bats took off, to the shrieks of students. The boats bumped up against the dock, and the firsties clambered out.

"Righ'." Hagrid did a quick head count, then said, "We'll be goin' up to the Great Hall now. 'Tis where you're sorted into y' houses. F'llo me, now." The firsties followed him, until he stopped. "Righ'. One more flight, an' ye'll be met. I'll see ye'll later now. G'luck tae all o' ye at Hogwarts." He vanished, moving surprisingly quietly for such a large man.

One floor up, Professor McGonagall waited. She looked the firsties over sternly; then said, "I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. In a few minutes, you will proceed into the Great Hall, where you will be Sorted into your Houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Your house is your family while you are here at Hogwarts. Good grades and behavior will gain your house points, while misbehavior and rule-breaking will cost your house points." She added, "At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the House Cup." She looked them over, "Follow me," turned, and opened the doors.

Lee followed along as people entered, murmuring about the hundreds of floating candles. They stopped in the middle of the hall, facing the high table. Professor McGonagall motioned us to wait; then advanced to stand next to a stool, where an ancient, patched and filthy hat sat. She blinked, a rip along the brim opened, and it started to sing.

_Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Slytherin and Ravenclaw,  
I will Sort you to your house, it is not a random draw. _

_Griffins, they are brave and bold, Hufflepuffs be stout and true.  
Ravenclaws, so sharp of mind, do their best to outthink you. _

_Slytherins, those cunning souls, only want the very best.  
How then can I de-cide things? Well, I'll tell you. That's no jest. _

_The founders four, they thought hard, Gryffindor knew what was right.  
They took his hat, gave it brains. Then they gave me oversight. _

_So place me upon your head, I will look inside and see,  
Ex-act-ly where you belong... and there is where you'll be._

There was applause, and Professor McGonagall called, "When I call your name, come have a seat, and the Hat will sort you into your house." There was an excited murmur, and one of the boys started to hyperventilate. She called, "Ballantyne, Daphne." She swallowed, made her way between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, and climbed onto the stool. The Hat was placed on her head, and it twisted as it seemed to carry on a conversation. After a minute or so, the rip opened up with a call, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Bourmont, Louis" went to Ravenclaw, "Fook, Lee" went to Slytherin (after a discussion with the Hat), "Keyes, Stephanie" went to Hufflepuff, "Koslowski, Constance" went to Gryffindor (to her enormous disgust, after arguing with the Hat for Slytherin), "Pellew, Jeremy" went to Slytherin, his sister "Pellew, Violetta" went to Gryffindor (to her relief), and "Ravensworth, Hartley" went to Ravenclaw.

* * *

The Headmaster tapped his goblet, and Mattie turned away from her conversation with Lee. "Now that we all know where we are, I can hear stomachs growling from here, so I have one more thing to say." He clapped his hands twice, and said, "Dig in." Food appeared on the table, and someone muttered "Finally!" Lee reached for the mashed potatoes.

* * *

After everyone had stuffed themselves, the Headmaster stood again, and tapped his goblet. The noise died down, and he said, "I have only a few announcements. We will be continuing with our modified schedule, in which there is only one double class per each morning and afternoon session. All four houses will be in each class. Also, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, asked me to remind you that magic is not allowed in the corridors. He also informs me that the entire catalog from Weasley Wizard Wheezes have been added to the forbidden items list. That list now compromises forty six feet of parchment, and is available for your perusal at Mr. Filch's office, should you wish to inspect it." People chuckled, and he added, "First years will be taking a computer class on Friday afternoons before their flying lessons. I must remind you all that the Forbidden Forest is indeed forbidden if you do not wish to die a most horrible death." He waited for the murmurs to die away, then said, "Tomorrow is the first day of classes, so off to bed with you."

* * *

Lee and Jeremy waited with the other Slytherins. A blonde prefect told them, "My name is Karen Bundy, and I'm your Quidditch captain. This is the statue of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of our house. The password changes every month, you can get it from Professor Snape or a prefect. This month's is _aconite_." The statue rotated away, and people entered, taking places to watch the initiation. Another prefect, a very large fellow, said, "My name is Frank MacDonald, I'm one a' your Beaters. Let's have the firsties up front, please." He waited a minute, adding, "This is our common room, where you can study and socialize." He pointed, adding, "The door opposite the fireplace will lead to the Slytherin private library and to our potions laboratory, the left hand stairway leads down to the girl's dorms; the right to the boy's. Sound travels surprisingly well up and down the stairs, please be courteous and use silencing spells if you snore, yell or make other noise. If you have a guest from another house, they are not to learn the common room password, and they must be escorted. You will set a dorm password with your room-mates. Before you can sleep, Professor Snape has a few words." 

Mattie watched as the tall Potions Master stood on the fireplace hearthstones, "Thank you, Mr. MacDonald." He swept the nervous firsties with a stern gaze; then nodded, "Before we enroll you as members of the Serpent's Den, there are several things I must emphasize. First, we present a united front to the other houses. Even if you disagree with another Slytherin, you will always support them in public. Everything that occurs in this house **_STAYS_** in this house. Only in an emergency should you reveal a house secret; that includes special talents of your housemates." He paused; a burning log broke with a pop, then he continued, "Our library and potions laboratory is here for your use. Library books are charmed to become illegible if taken outside the House, they will incinerate if touched by someone from another house. These represent a private storehouse of knowledge that is unavailable to the other houses. If you are having difficulties in your studies, ask another member of the house for tutoring. I do not expect a member of this house to receive a detention for misbehavior, if you do, you will receive a _doubled_ one from **_me_**." He smiled, and Lee gulped. "If you are pulling pranks on members of another house, consult with older members of the house first. Lastly, ladies; if you need a pass for the nurse because of your… monthly visitor, do not hesitate to ask me. However, if you are using it to skive off classes, _I will know_. For both ladies and gentlemen, I will be most **_unhappy_** to learn of an accidental pregnancy. I would suggest you take appropriate precautions, potions are available from both myself and the nurse." He smiled, adding, "Are there any questions?"

Professor Snape turned, and muttered an incantation. A section of wall moved out, and a listing of names appeared. He said, "This is a listing of members of Slytherin House since our founding. If you become trapped in the castle, touch your wand to the castle's stone, and use the incantation _succubi serpentis_ and your name if female, _intestis serpentis_ and name if male. You will be delivered here to the common room, any other persons you wish to save must be in physical contact with you. This is, naturally, only to be used in mortal danger." He looked at his new charges; saying "Mr. Williams, you're first." He tapped his wand on the listing of names, and asked, "Are there any objections?" No one said anything, and Professor Snape offered the firstie a knife as he said, "Mr. Williams, tap the list with your wand, and state your full name. Then cut your finger, and smear some of your blood across your name."

The firstie stepped forward, and tapped the list. It stopped, and he said, "Herbert Peter Williams," then he fumbled the blade, finally slitting his finger. He passed the blade back, and massaged his index finger to get a good flow, finally touching it to all three words. Mattie and Sprink applauded with the others as his name blurred; then rotated with the others. Frank MacDonald motioned him over, and muttered a charm over his finger as he turned to watch the other's initiation.

* * *

After Professor Snape had left, Frank held up his hand, saying loudly, "One las' thing for ye firsties ta know. A bit o' free advice on wha' Professor Snape said." He looked each of the nervous firsties in the eye; then said, "Believe every bloody word."

* * *

Connie and Violet followed the others up the shifting staircases to the seventh floor, and the base of Gryffindor tower. Stopping in front of a large portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress, the prefect said to the winded firsties, "You'll get used to this climb, its good exercise. Passwords change every month, and are not to be shared with other houses. If you have a friend visit from another house, they must be escorted. You'll get the new passwords from a prefect or Professor McGonagall. This month's is _courage_." The portrait swung open, revealing a circular hole in the stone wall. Connie waited to clamber through, where the prefect continued, "This is the Gryffindor common room. Girl's dormitories are up the stairs to the left, boys to the right. The girls' staircase is charmed so boys can't get up it. Your trunks and things have been taken up by the house elves. Breakfast is served from seven to nine in the Great Hall, lunch from twelve to one, and dinner from five to six." He glanced at the other prefects, adding, "That's about it. Classes start tomorrow at nine. G'night, everyone." 

"That's it? No rituals, no blood?" Connie asked.

"What d'you think we are, Slytherins?" a fourth-year said.

_**

* * *

Wednesday, September 1, 1999: **__**

* * *

Hogwarts, Headmaster's office**_

* * *

"Well, Alastair, what did you think of our two mystery firsties?" 

The hat sighed as he was replaced on his customary shelf. "I was not happy with this, Albus. However, as a student's life is at risk, I did as requested. Miss Fook will be best protected by Severus and the Slytherins, even though her affinity was for Hufflepuff."

"Hmm. Did you gain any information from the faux Miss Koslowski's mind?"

"No, it's as if she had been Sorted before. There was some sort of blocking spell in place, it… well, it smelled of dark magic. Not Occlumancy, like Miss Wayne manifested last year." Alastair snorted, adding, "Her natural affinity, as she insisted, was for Slytherin, but the darker Slytherin of years past. That one will be trouble, mark my words."

"Hmm. Is there anything else, old friend?"

"One other thing, Miss Koslowski's mind had a definite, well, male tint to it, while having female patterns as well. The last time I saw this was with strong twin bonds, most recently the Cortez and Weasley twins. Both the Cortez girls showed it, just as the Weasley boys showed a feminine tint." Alastair sighed, "Minerva, Harry and the Gryffindors will keep an eye on her; do you think it would be useful to have Miss Wayne keep an eye on Miss Fook?"

"Possibly, possibly," the headmaster said. "The term is yet young, I will mention to Severus and Minerva our generalized concerns about the two students after Wednesday's staff meeting. I do not wish to place Miss Wayne in danger, though." He stroked his beard, sighed, and said, "I am off to bed. Good night, old friend."

"Good night, Albus. Sleep well."


	3. Classes, Week One, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

3 - Classes, Week One, Second Year**_

* * *

Thursday, September 2, 1999: _****_

* * *

Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff Table: 08:47_**

* * *

"Post's here!" People looked up to see the usual storm of owls, but along with those came several bats, which circled and landed at the Slytherin table. Daphne looked over, and said, "I've never seen bats used for post before." 

"They're Mattie's," Arthur mentioned. His housemates looked at him, and he shrugged, "Mattie Wayne. She's the majority owner of the Ballycastle Bats."

"Wayne owns Ballycastle?" Abby Michaels said in a strangled voice. "A _second-year_ owns a Quidditch team?"

Charlie shrugged, and Stephanie looked over as a petite girl with long black hair untied the last message. The bat took off, and Professor Sprout bustled up, distributing schedules. Stephanie glanced at hers, asking, "What's the computer class the Headmaster mentioned? What's a computer?"

"Muggle thinking box, they were installed last year," a fellow said, offering his hand. "Jeremy Slater, sixth year and Beater. They do make homework a lot easier, and the staff likes them because they don't need to decipher handwriting. You've also got email, which is like a really fast owl for sending letters."

"Really fast," Charlie said. "Mum and Dad can send me a note from London; it can be here in seconds."

"Anywhere in the world, really," Arthur said. He glanced at Charlie, adding, "You can ask the two computer prefects, Eleanor Branstone or Abby here, or just about any muggle-born for help." Charlie started to put his things away, and Arthur said, "Welcome to Hogwarts and Hufflepuff. Charlie and I are off to Herbology, see you at lunch."

"You have got to get a watch, mate," Charlie told Arthur. She didn't hear his reply.

_

* * *

_**_Thursday, September 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 13:00 _**

* * *

"Silence!" Professor Snape hissed, as the classroom doors locked on the stroke of one. He glowered, saying, "This is first year Potions. You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses. I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory; even stopper death." He glared at the silent classroom, adding, "If you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." 

He stalked about; then pointed. "Your name?"

"Koslowski, Professor."

"Tell me, Miss Koslowski, do you find my instruction amusing?" he hissed at the smirking girl. She shook her head, and he leaned over her, adding, "Forty points from Gryffindor, and a detention for your cheek, girl." He spun, saying, "Miss Ballantyne, where might I acquire a bezoar?"

"The stomach of a goat, sir."

"Very good, ten points to Hufflepuff." He pointed, "You, the Gryffindor. Name one of the five uses of a bezoar."

Violet pointed to herself, and the professor nodded. "Miss Pellew, sir. It's used against poisons."

"Good. Five points to Gryffindor." He turned, adding, "You see, Miss Koslowski, it's not enough to have a pretty face. Contrary to rumour, I do award points to your house, IF you have the wit to THINK!"

The study group stopped on the way into the Great Hall for dinner, Amanda and Andrew groaning at the sight of four rubies lying at the bottom of the Gryffindor hourglass. While they watched, five topaz fell into the Hufflepuff hourglass, the counter on top changing to 74.

Minerva McGonagall stopped, appalled. "What happened this morning?"

"Miss Koslowski happened, Minerva," Severus said. "She seemed to find my style of instruction amusing, to the tune of forty points. She will also be serving a detention with me." Minerva's mouth twisted, and he added, "Miss Pellew gained ten of those points back, however, by having the correct information."

"Thank you, Severus. It seems I must have a talk with Miss Koslowski."

**_

* * *

Friday, September 3, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Computer classroom: 13:00 _**

* * *

"Good afternoon," the blonde witch said as the firsties filed in. "I'm Kelly Bundy, your network administrator, and I'm here to get you all up to speed on Hogwart's computer network. Please have a seat, and how many of you have a computer at home?" Several hands went up, and she smiled. "Good. As you can see, we're running Macintosh computers here. Now, each house has two computer prefects, but you can go to any one of them for assistance. This class will run through the end of October, so you'll have time to learn how to use everything, and there are no stupid questions. Now, the first thing we need to do is to power the system on. Please look on the front of the machine on the floor to your right; you'll see a silver button the size of your thumb. It has a circle with a vertical bar at the twelve o'clock position. Hold that button in for two seconds; you'll hear a hum…." _

* * *

To: Mom at Home  
__From: Lee Fook  
__Date: 3 September 1999  
__Subject: School! _

_Hi, Mom! _

_Well, I've obviously arrived safe and sound, and I've been sorted into Slytherin. I'm sorry I didn't write before, I was just exhausted. We're at the weekend now; I plan to sleep in a bit tomorrow. Give Aunt Beth a hug for me, the school is just like she described it. One of the people I met on the train, Connie Koslowski, managed to piss off the professor in our first potions class, and earned herself a detention. That's not a good way to start off the school year! _

_You can see above that my email address is lfook at hogwarts .edu .uk. It's been an interesting couple of days, I've written out my schedule, see attached. _

_By the way, Aunt Beth mentioned that you weren't the only reporter with a wizarding relative? Well, hold on to your typewriter, one of my fellow Slytherins is Mattie Wayne. Now, not only does she own her own Quidditch team, her Aunt and Uncle are none other than Lois Lane and Clark Kent of the Daily Planet! They're publishing an American-style wizarding newspaper called the Reporter, as the other paper, the Daily Prophet, is a Ministry propaganda rag. I have copies of both, I'll see if I can get them out through muggle post, I don't trust sending them through the Ministry. I think you met her parents at Kings Cross? Well, they're the Gotham Waynes, like the fifth richest in the world? I've only met her once, but she came across as very down-to-earth, not snooty at all. She's also offering classes in martial arts; I'll go see what she says about the tai-chi classes I took in Central Park._

_Well, I'm going to send this off, and go talk to Mattie. Love ya dearly,  
__Lee. _

_

* * *

_**_Friday, September 3, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff common room: 19:40 _**

* * *

Stephanie cleared her throat, asking, "Um, can I join you?" 

Arthur cleared space, while Eleanor held out her hand, "Eleanor Branstone, Arthur Morton, and Charlie Adams. Got a computer problem, or just want to talk?"

"Um, well, yes and no. My mum got a lot of stuff at a Ministry jumble sale, and I just had my first computer class, and, well…"

"It's ok," Charlie said. "Arthur and I are muggle. What's the problem?"

"Well, um, we thought the stuff belonged to someone dead, so well, we managed to save so much, and school supplies are really expensive, and now, I think I know who it belonged to, and, well, she's a _Slytherin_!"

Arthur, Charlie and Eleanor traded looks, Eleanor asking, "You think she's going to slit your throat or something if she finds out?" Stephanie nodded, violently.

"Were the initials on the trunk HMW?" Arthur asked gently. Stephanie nodded again, eyes wide and adding in a whisper, "I've heard the Slythies are really vicious, is she going to… to…"

"I doubt it, she's in my study group," Charlie said. "If she's mad at anyone, it will be Minister Fudge. Well, madder, to be precise."

"Her clan and the Slythies are already at war with Fudge, Stephanie," Eleanor said. "You're right; you don't want to get them mad at you, but they're not hotheads. You haven't given them a reason to be mad at you. All your mum did was buy stuff at a jumble sale. Last year, her stuff vanished, so now that mystery's solved."

"Was there a broom in that trunk?" Charlie asked, and Stephanie nodded, whispering, "Firebolt II. I was afraid to take it to class."

"Were you going out for Quidditch?" Eleanor asked eagerly. "Wayne's the Slythie Seeker, that's about the only broom here that can catch her. Nobody else can afford one! If you…"

Charlie held up a hand. "Look, don't force her. Is Professor Harry holding a little get-together tomorrow morning?" Stephanie nodded, and Charlie said, "You can meet Wayne, and see for yourself that she won't rip out your spleen and eat it. We'll be there, just in case. She might ask for a couple things, is that all right?" Stephanie nodded, and opened her Herbology text.

**_

* * *

Saturday, September 4, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch: 09:10 _**

* * *

Charlie waved, and Mattie raised her coffee mug, her broom following behind her. She joined the group, wearing a Ballycastle t-shirt, jeans and boots. Slurping coffee, she said as she sat, "I haven't been able to fly in _months_!" Changing the mug to her left hand, she offered her right to Daphne and Stephanie, saying, "Hi there. Mattie Wayne, welcome to Hogwarts." 

"Um, you like Ballycastle?" Stephanie asked.

Mattie shrugged, "It's my team, I figure I should support them, y'know?" She waved in the air, asking, "You going out for Quidditch? I can't convince these two." She motioned to Arthur and Charlie, grinned; adding, "We need some competition! The Gryffies are pathetic this year, and we can't keep stomping the 'Claws."

"I'll take a Bludger to you, Wayne!" She leaned back to look up, and grinned. "Two of my favorite Beaters. I'm going to join those clowns up there in a minute, want to come?"

"Actually, Mattie, we had a bit of business to discuss," Charlie said. Mattie immediately focused on him, all expression wiped from her face. Charlie swallowed; then said, "You remember your missing trunk from last year?" Her eyes tightened slightly, that was the only change. "Well, it turned up in a Ministry Jumble sale. Apparently it had all your stuff in it."

"Laptop, broom, books?" Mattie asked in a flat tone.

"There's some books and things I don't understand," Stephanie said, and Mattie's unblinking gaze locked on her. "You bought it at a jumble sale?" she asked softly. Stephanie swallowed and nodded, "Twenty-two galleons."

"Alchemy books, that kind of thing? Firebolt II broomstick? Apple Powerbook?" Mattie asked, and Stephanie whispered, "I don't know what that last thing is, but the rest…"

"Know what they're worth?" Stephanie shook her head, and Mattie continued softly, "I paid 130 galleons for the alchemy books, 450 for the Firebolt, and another 450 for the Powerbook. It's a laptop, a portable computer. With all the rest, you've probably got 1200 galleons worth of stuff the Ministry idiots let go for twenty two galleons." She gazed at Stephanie in silence, finally smiling, "I'd say you got a bloody good bargain."

Stephanie let out her breath, and Mattie grinned. "I'd like to recover any personal papers and data, if you don't mind, and if you don't plan on using the alchemy and potion books, I'd like those back." She grinned, adding, "They've got my notes from last year, you see. I was working on my term project for Professor Snape when I was kidnapped by Fudge." Her eyes glittered strangely, and Stephanie asked, "What about the broom?"

"Keep it, on one condition," she told the girl. "Go out for the Hufflepuff team. You don't have to make the team, but I want some competition up there. I've already replaced it, as you can see. I've also replaced the laptop, so if I can recover files, and you don't want it, give it to Arthur here." He started to object, and Mattie added, "It already had my mail program, and clan files, Arthur." She held out her hand to Stephanie, asking, "Do we have a deal?"

* * *

"We told you that you had nothing to worry about," Charlie said to Stephanie as they walked back to the Hufflepuff common room. 

"Well, I've always heard such stories about Slytherin House. I'm glad to know that they're not true," she said.

Charlie stopped in his tracks causing his housemates to stop as well. "It's not that simple," he began. "Slytherin house is made up of people; good, bad and indifferent, just like every other house. Maybe the Snakes play to their 'deadly, dark and dangerous' stereotype a little too much. Mattie and her roommate Sprink are good people, but there are Slytherins who _specialize_ in being an arse."

"So Mattie isn't a typical Slytherin?" Stephanie asked uncertainly.

"Mattie's not a typical anything," Arthur answered.

* * *

Mattie waited for them near the entrance to the Hufflepuff common room. She grinned at their surprise, quipping, "Well, I _did_ have a broom with me." Charlie snorted, and she continued, "Sorry if I'm anxious, but the chance to actually turn in my project, and not fail it has me a bit nervous." 

"What term project is this? We didn't have homework from Snape over the summer hols," Charlie asked.

"Well, you're not in Slytherin," Mattie replied. "Professor Snape has us research a potion to brew that's due October 29th. We're supposed to stretch ourselves, the one Sprink and I submitted is a fourth-year blood potion. Then I was kidnapped in April, and we thought all my stuff and our notes were gone forever. There was no way we could research and submit another potion in the two weeks I spent in the Infirmary after I got back."

"Where were you?" Stephanie asked, and Charlie tried to shush her, "Tell you later."

Mattie smiled faintly, "Thank you, Charlie. It's Stephanie, right?" The girl nodded, and Mattie said, "Fudge threw me in Azkaban."

"Oh, thank god, it's all here!" Mattie sighed. Arthur and Charlie looked puzzled, as Mattie paged through a loose-leaf binder.

"What potion is it?" Charlie asked.

"It's a variant of the Oculis potion, using chemistry and alchemy," Mattie replied as she paged through a thick reference book. "Now, all I have to do is to convince our test subject to co-operate."

"Who would that be, and what does it do?" Stephanie asked nervously.

"It fixes someone's eyesight," Mattie replied, turning and looking at Arthur. "It has to be brewed before puberty sets in. For girls, before their first period, for boys, before they start to shave, this is why the faculty hasn't taken it. Tell me, Arthur; want to have perfect vision for the rest of your life?"

"I'd feel better if Snape brewed it," Arthur admitted. "But I won't be your guinea pig unless Snape signs off and your tests work first."

She put the book down, "If we wait too long, you'll miss your chance."

"You're talking about a new potion which is a lot more complex than anything we've brewed before." He regarded her, asking, "Why am I just now finding out about it?"

"Not much point in asking you about it when Fudge tried to declare me dead, steal my money and all my stuff; then throw me in Azkaban to rot, was there?" Mattie asked, sitting against the trunk. "Our original plan was to tell you about this after Malfoy's trial, which would give us time to ask someone else if you refused. Look, I've just known this stuff still existed for (she checked her watch) a little over twenty minutes. As it is, we're going to have to recalculate parts of the potion; our original plan was to start brewing it two days ago. This is all assuming that Stephanie here is willing to part with it."

She gave a jerky nod, while Arthur said, "Not without Snape signing off on it."

"I don't blame you," Mattie said, as she pulled reference books and started to stack them. "I would be too, especially coming at me like this. Look, why don't we do this? You can discuss this with Professor Snape while Charlie and Stephanie help me schlep this over to my dorm. If you decide not to, then Sprink and I have to find another first or second year to convince."

Mattie pulled her wand, and cast _minimus_ and _tollenosis_ on the stacks of books. "This potion is voluntary (she finger-quoted) for Slytherin house. I'm sure Professor Sprout does something similar for you people."

* * *

Sprink and Lee were just leaving the common room when Mattie called, "Hold the door!" Sprink looked up, blinked, and squealed, "You found them! Where were they?" 

"The Ministry sold my trunk in a jumble sale, Stephanie's mum bought it. Do we still have the ingredients?"

Sprink nodded, "In the dorm. We were just going to talk to people. Will Arthur do it?"

Mattie and Sprink looked at him, and he said, "I don't know yet."

"I thought he could talk to Professor Snape about it, is he in his office?"

Sprink shook her head, "He's in the lab. Let's get set up, and we can start brewing."

* * *

The Slytherin common room wasn't what Stephanie expected. A large fireplace with a merrily crackling fire, lamps and torches gave good illumination for study while the windowless stone walls reinforced the 'dungeon' feel. There weren't many students in the common room, as Mattie and Sprink lead them to the spiral staircases on the left. As she entered the second-year's dorm, it looked similar to hers, with the exception of the green and silver bedclothes and wall hangings. Mattie dropped her stack of books under a Ballycastle Bats poster; the opposite wall sported a Montrose Magpies poster. Mattie thumbed her nose at it, Sprink stuck out her tongue and blew a raspberry, and Stephanie giggled. 

"We've agreed to disagree about Quidditch teams," Mattie said, with Sprink adding, "Aside from the bets."

"Hah! See if I hire YOU in five or six years!" Mattie said with a grin. Sprink made a rude gesture, then said, "Let's get started, then we can refigure the potion." She pointed her wand at a muggle cooler, levitating it before her as Mattie gestured toward the door.

"Where is everyone?" Charlie asked as they recrossed the common room.

"In the lab," Sprink said. She stopped; then said, "Very few people outside Slytherin have seen our library or Potions Lab. Don't touch any books; they're spelled to burn if you do." Charlie, Arthur and Stephanie nodded, Sprink levitated the cooler again.

* * *

The bookshelves vanished into the gloom above Stephanie's head, _protegro_ spells obscuring the spines of the books. She turned with the others, and went down a flight of steps into a stone room, walls scored with ancient scorch marks. Dozens of students sweated over cauldrons, mixing, adding ingredients, and casting incantations. She recognized one of her year-mates; Jeremy was helping an older student. He looked up and nodded to her, as Mattie hurried over to talk to the formidable potions professor. Sprink put the cooler down under an empty table, a sign above reading 'Tonks/Wayne'. With a poke of her wand, the fire was lit under the cauldron, and Sprink unlatched the cooler, pulling out two gallon jugs of water.

* * *

"Mr. Morton, I understand you have questions about this potion?" Professor Snape asked, and Arthur jumped. He nodded, and followed the Professor's billowing robes. 

"You have questions about the potion Miss Wayne and Miss Tonks are brewing," Professor Snape said as he took his chair in the stone office, his computer monitor on the corner of his desk.

Arthur stood on the flagstones, nodding, "Mattie told me this afternoon that she's working on a potion with Sprink that could fix my eyesight."

Snape grunted, "Ah yes, the oculis variant. What do you know about it, Mr. Morton?"

"Not much, sir. She just rediscovered her notes twenty minutes ago. One of my housemates bought her trunk at a Ministry jumble sale."

"Ah… a minor mystery resolved. Rest assured, Mr. Morton, I would not have allowed them to proceed if the theory and research behind their work was not sound."

Arthur nodded, "I told her I wouldn't do it unless you signed off on it, sir. I want to see some clinical trials first, before I offer myself up as a guinea pig."

"Do you not trust her abilities?"

Arthur gulped, but held his ground, "Not yet, sir, not with my eyesight." Snape frowned, and he elaborated, "At this point, sir, the risks outweigh the benefits. Wearing glasses until I graduate, get a job and can afford laser surgery won't kill me. Show me the potion will work, and that's something else."

"Yet you expect Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne to trust you enough to wear the pendants you created for your study group."

"Professor Flitwick signed off on the work sir. He tested them himself, and told me that specific anti-spell charms have been around for centuries. The two cases aren't comparable."

"I do not know what spell the charm defends against. As I act _in loco parentis_ for Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne, I could forbid them to wear it."

"That's strictly up to you, sir. It doesn't have a thing to do with the potion, either."

Snape regarded him in silence. "It is good to see that you are not a fool, Mr. Morton. You are perhaps unaware the potions I require my house to brew must also contain the antigen." He held out his hand, summoning a book. Laying the white, two inch thick binder on his desk, he added, "This is their potion submission to me, which includes my questions and their replies. You will review it for me, and note any questions that you have that are not covered by this material. Next week, we will discuss it, you and I, at which point you will give me your decision."

He swiveled in his wooden chair, drawing his grey ash wand, and unlocking his computer. Making a note on his calendar, he typed quickly. "I see your marks last year for Potions and Herbology were not up to my standards, Mr. Morton. Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne are supporting each other's strengths in this potion, Miss Tonks performing the spell-casting and Miss Wayne brewing the potion." He gazed at Arthur, adding, "I will discuss this with Professor Sprout, I expect your midterm examinations to be an improvement over 'Acceptable'. As you are benefiting from my students' generosity, I expect academic performance equal to theirs."

He stood, handing the binder to Arthur. "I will escort you to rejoin your housemates in our laboratory. Until you have made your decision, Mr. Morton, do not shave. If questions arise, refer them to me."

* * *

"Thank Merlin this is the last time I'll have to do this," a large fellow said, offering his hand to Charlie and Stephanie. "Frank MacDonald. Welcome to our little potions lab." He returned to watching his potion, stirring occasionally. 

Sprink extracted a rat from a cage, snapping its neck and carefully draining the blood. Lee gingerly took the limp form, looking helplessly at Sprink.

"What d'ye need, lassie?" Frank asked Sprink.

"Spleen and liver," she replied, as she stalked an escaped rat that sensed its fate.

"Come here," Frank motioned to the two firsties as Sprink lunged. He gave his potion another stir, then said, "Potions can be messy, but fresh ingredients are best. Y'drain him for the ingredients, and its less messy. Take y' knife, and open him up like so…" There was a snap of the rat's neck breaking, and Lee turned, losing her breakfast on the stone floor.

Stephanie looked green, and Frank gently patted her back. "I lost it m'self my first time, an' that was in class with the Gryffs."

"I couldn't do it my first time," Mattie said as she came back. She knelt to help Lee, adding, "A useful spell: _evanesco_, it cleans up all sorts of messes. Go rinse your mouth out, then a freshening charm."

"I'll help," Charlie said, taking care of the two firsties. He glanced at Frank, and mouthed, "Thanks." He nodded.

* * *

Four dead rats waited for the firsties, with Mattie having a fifth open on the cutting board. Pointing out organs on a diagram in her notes, she helped Lee and Stephanie carefully remove organs; placing them in dishes. Sprink looked at her list of ingredients, than asked Charlie, "If you want to help, we'll need the spleen and livers diced, and two measures of finely ground bicorn horn, 15.2 grams each. There's a scale in the box." 

"Oh, nice," Frank said, looking at the electronic scale as Charlie got it out. "Pity I'm past that point with mine. Don't use angled cuts, lassie," he advised Stephanie as she chopped a liver. "Cut straight down, the hundredth of an ounce difference adds up."

"Weigh the paper first, Charlie," Mattie said, "That sets your tare weight; otherwise your ingredient weight will be off. Frank, could I ask you a favor?"

"What is it, lassie?"

"I'll need to adjust the potion because we're starting late, can you double-check my figures?"

"Certainly," adding to Sprink, "Put what you don't need on the table under the stairs with a freshness spell, so other people can use them."

_

* * *

4 September, 1999 _

_Dear Mum, _

_This has been a most interesting day! I'm sure you remember the trunk we got at the Ministry jumble sale for 22 galleons. Well, it turns out that not only is the original owner alive, I've met her! She's a second-year Slytherin named Mattie Wayne, and by her figures, the Ministry let loose of about1200 galleons worth of stuff for the bargain rate of 22 galleons! _

_She suggests that you not spread that around, what with the fact that her Clan and the Slythies are at war with the Fudge Ministry. I think that's wise, and this is the last I'll say of it on parchment. She did want to recover personal papers and such, but she's already replaced the broom and the laptop (that black book-like thing we couldn't figure out). I thought that perfectly reasonable, just those two things are worth 900 galleons! _

_Yes, you read that right. From what my housemates say, her father is the fifth richest man in the world. Mattie herself owns the Bats Quidditch team, but she's a very, well, normal person, with no pretensions at all. Her only real requests were that I try out for the Quidditch team (she wants some competition, she's the Slythie Seeker), and if I didn't want the laptop thing, to give it to one of my housemates. He's a muggle from the Colonies, he'll probably get more use out of it than I._

_I had an interesting afternoon; apparently Professor Snape assigns his House a potion to do over the summer term. Which is what all the notes were about, after I met Mattie, I went into Slytherin House's private potions lab and helped her and her room-mate get started on a eye-repair potion. _

_What else? One of the Gryffies managed to tick off Professor Snape and lose 40 points in her first Potions class on Thursday. One of her housemates recovered ten from him, but Professor McGonagall was not happy at all. They have just a few points, and their rubies look very lonely in the hourglass. Right now, we're at 80 points, hopefully we can repeat last year's stunning win of the House Cup. _

_Love, _

_Your daughter Stephanie _

_

* * *

To: The Clan (encrypted)  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Date: Saturday, September 4, 1999  
__Subject: School stuff _

_Hi, everyone! _

_Classes are underway, and I received a pleasant surprise today. One of the incoming Hufflepuff students bought my old trunk, with contents, from the Ministry at a jumble (garage) sale. It included my uniforms, textbooks, my Alchemy and Potions references, broom, and laptop. _

_The girl that bought it is in financial straights, which is why I didn't ask for it back – she bought it (quasi-legally) from the Ministry, who obviously didn't know what they had. Her mom paid twenty-two galleons for it! I did ask her three things:  
_

_For my Alchemy notes and references, which means Sprink and I may be able to finish our potion on time;_

_For her to try out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team (I don't need a second broom, I do need competition!); _

_For her to pass my Powerbook to Arthur, who is having one of his 'I am not a charity case!' episodes. I really think he needs the secured communications, and I doubt Stephanie (the girl that bought it) will be able to use it. Do you think you or the Mortons could talk some sense into him?_

_In other news, one of my new housemates mother works for the New York Times. Her name's Lee Fook and I said that she could forward copies of the Reporter and the Prophet to her mom through Aunt Sheila in London. I hope that's all right._

_Also, I know you had mixed feelings about Dick arranging for me to get a Power Ring. Dick, I love you, but I am uncomfortable with it. I've designated Arthur as my backup (one reason I brought him to the Steel's party), but I would feel better if a current GL could come by and give me/us some training on the bloody thing. _

_Well, that's about it for now. I've attached my class schedule, I'm taking Legilmancy on Tuesdays with Professor Dumbledore from 9:00 – 10:30, and maybe I can talk him into actual tutoring in Alchemy too, instead of my self-study course! grin _

_Love to all,  
__Mattie_


	4. Classes, Week Two, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

4 - Classes, Week Two, Second Year

* * *

**_Sunday, September 5, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff quarters, Potter apartment: 07:40  
_**

* * *

"Mr. Potter, what can be wrong?" the red haired witch asked teasingly. "Obsessed about your students?" 

"One student, Mrs. Potter," he replied. "The firstie on the train, I can't remember where I've smelled her before." He shook his head to clear it, asking, "How's the owl order business doing?"

"It's coming along," she replied, putting her arms across his shoulders. He grinned, and wrapped his arms around her slender waist….

**_

* * *

Monday, September 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 09:00  
_**

* * *

The door slammed and locked on the tick of nine, the class instantly falling silent. Professor Snape said, "Welcome to second-year potions. As some of you are aware, we start this year on personal potions. As such, part of your study will be the conversion between three different scales of weights and measures." He paced the front of the room, adding, "The three you will be using will include stone, pounds and kilograms, and their fluid and dry measure. The dosages of some potions are measured by body weight." 

Continuing his pacing, he said, "Monday mornings you will learn the theory, Wednesday mornings you will brew. On Wednesdays, look on that board (he pointed) to determine your partner. A few of you skived off last year, allowing your partner to carry the burden. I will not allow such slacking; now the pair of you will have a shared grade. Therefore, if your partner skives off, you will also fail the potion." A few people groaned, and he stood over a student. "Is that clear, Miss Hansen?" She swallowed and nodded, he replied, "Good."

"One other thing," he added as he moved about the classroom. "Certain… relatives have made me aware that I am not conforming to the Ministry syllabus. If I cared, I would answer that first year would have been spent reading and memorizing a dry-as-dust book on theory, only to brew your first potions this year. I however, believe in learning by doing, and I am borne out by student OWL and NEWT scores. That is, _IF_ I cared, Miss Hansen." He leaned over the girl, his face inches from hers, stating, "I care not that your father is deputy Minister of Education, Miss Hansen, or that he is one of Fudge's bootlicking arsewipes. My responsibility is to instruct you in potions. If your feeble mind is incapable of that, or you feel that I am discriminating based upon your parents, I would suggest you bring it up with your head of house. I would, however, mention to you that of the eight Potion Masters currently residing in Great Britain, of which I am one, I have had the honour of training two. The latest of which is an annoying Gryffindor, who graduated Hogwarts two years ago, and is the youngest Potion Mistress in four hundred years." He stood, adding, "I will keep my own counsel regarding curriculum in potions, Fudge can keep his toady in London, or in his privy, I do not care which."

* * *

"Oooh! He's so… so… _mean_!" Felicia Hansen said outside the potions classroom. "I skived off on one class, ONE! He thinks he's so… and what he said about my father, and sweet Uncle Cornelius! Oooh!" 

Mattie stopped in the corridor, only moving when someone complained. "'Uncle Cornelius'? The same one that had me arrested on false charges, imprisoned and tortured?"

"The same one that conspired with Malfoy to torture us?" one twin asked rhetorically. The other added, "The one who was planning to have us killed? We're just a _bit_ ticked with him."

"The same one who lied, in public, when he presented a false corpse to Professor Snape, claiming it was Mattie, and then called me a liar," Sprink said.

"The same one that killed a muggle girl to impersonate Mattie, and stole her money and possessions?" Charlie asked. Arthur looked at him, and he added, "I was in the Infirmary when they did the autopsy. I heard everything. The girl wasn't even Mattie's blood type."

"But those were all lies, by Uncle Cornelius' political opponents! He said so himself, and the Prophet printed it, every word! Even that horrid new paper printed it, but they confused people with more lies! Uncle Cornelius would never do anything that horrible!"

"Would you like to see independent medical evidence, since you don't believe the people involved? The people standing in front of you?" Mattie asked. "The doctor on the oil platform has photos and test results that she gave to Madame Pomfrey."

"Muggle evidence?" Felicia sniffed, "Totally unreliable, unlike a Ministry healer. You're a mudblood; I don't expect you to understand."

Sprink growled, Charlie and Arthur holding her back. "You're saying Wayne's a mudblood? In Slytherin? Are you daft?" Amanda demanded.

"She's as pureblooded as I am, you twit!" Sprink snarled, "I'm a Black, would you dare call ME a mudblood?"

Felicia sniffed; Charlie and Arthur traded a look. "Oops." Sprink had Felicia by the throat, and was happily bouncing her head off the flagstones.

"What is going on here?" Professor Snape inquired.

"Er, Professor, it's like this…" Andrew started.

Severus cocked an eyebrow, and waited for him to finish. After a minute of silence, Sprink piped up, "Quidditch argument, sir. Felicia was impugning the Magpie's chasers, and, well, I couldn't let that pass."

"I see," Professor Snape said as he reached down, hauling both girls to their feet. He checked Felicia's head, not finding any blood, released her. "Take such arguments to the pitch, where they belong. Miss Hansen, are you well?"

She nodded, and the Professor dismissed them with an 'Off to lunch with you all, and Mr. Kirke?" They paused, and the Professor added, "Learn to lie."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, September 7, 1999: _  
_Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 08:58  
_**

* * *

"Sweet tart" The statue guarding the Headmaster's office rolled aside and Mattie rode the circular staircase up. The door opened at her approach, and Professor Dumbledore looked up from his desk. 

"Professor? How'd you get up here? When I left the Great Hall you were still…" Mattie asked.

"Ah, Miss Wayne, this old castle holds many secrets," the Headmaster chuckled. "I see you've been practicing your Occlumancy, good, good."

"Yes, sir, I felt you brush my mind." She grinned, asking, "Did you get the new image?"

"Running in a park, in the middle of a great city? Why, yes, where is it? It looked so real."

"It's New York's Central Park. I spent some time there over the summer; my family wanted me to see a wizarding shrink, sorry, a counselor. I was going with the Cortez twins." She grinned, adding, "It's a wonderful city, and much safer than Gotham. You ought to visit."

"I shall, it has been many years. Now, let us turn to our studies of Legilmancy. Have you any questions?"

"If it's possible, I'd like to study Alchemy with you. I've been struggling through some texts, but…"

"Ah. Possible. Let me consult with Professor Snape, and get back to you." She nodded, and he resumed, ushering her to their chairs by the fire. "Legilmancy, as you know, is reading another's thoughts and experiences from their mind. I would like to go over the ethics of this first. One should not force oneself into another's mind, except in certain rare circumstances, such as when it is necessary to save a life. Another case is when…"

**_

* * *

Wednesday, September 8, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 07:43  
_**

* * *

Harry passed out sheets of parchment to the faculty, explaining, "This is a little thing I came up with over the summer hols, after trying to identify differences between the Cortez twins in class. Place this on your lectern, and give it the command '_scholastica pertracto_', it will rearrange itself as students move about the room. If you want to hide it, use '_abstergeo_', it will look like any other sheet of blank parchment." 

"This would have been useful with the Weasley twins," Filius commented.

"They're who I got the idea from, and Shaundra and Roshawn seem to have gotten some ideas from Fred and George." Harry grinned. "My loyalties have changed, let's say."

Albus chuckled, adding, "One final note, we were scheduled to get an adjunct instructor for physical defense this year. Unfortunately, the fellow the Royal Marines was planning to send is unavailable." the Headmaster said. "The Special Boat Service will be sending someone else, who will not, unfortunately, have Sgt. Wilcox depth of expertise."

"Who will they be sending?" Harry asked.

The Headmaster shrugged, "A leftenant is all I know." He tapped his parchment into line, adding, "Miss Wayne asked me yesterday if she could continue her martial arts class on Sunday. I have no objections; indeed, I'm quite looking forward to resuming them."

"They're not too strenuous?" Kelly asked, closing her laptop.

"Not at all," Albus smiled. "Tai-chi is most invigorating, like a dance."

"It has done wonders for your heart, Albus," Madame Pomfrey added. "How long have I been on you to exercise?"

"Far too long. Miss Wayne also requested tutoring in Alchemy. I will discuss this more extensively with Severus, but did anyone else have comments?"

"If you plan to instruct her in Alchemy, her spellwork needs to improve," Filius Flitwick said, and Minerva nodded. "I can consult with the two of you regarding a course of study, and tutor her for an hour or so on Friday afternoons."

"That would be acceptable to me," Severus said, and the Headmaster nodded, "If there is nothing else?"

"I have something regarding Mr. Morton I need to discuss with Pomona," Severus said.

"I do hope there is nothing wrong," she glanced around the table.

"Two of my students, Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne, are brewing a variant on the oculis potion to fix his eyesight. I feel that he could apply himself more to his studies, I therefore informed him that I expected to see an improvement from 'Acceptable' in his Potion and Herbology scores by the midterm examinations."

Pomona nodded. "I will do what I can to help him, Severus. However, the poor lad seems to have been born with a brown thumb." She settled herself a bit, adding, "I would appreciate your not linking Mr. Morton's Potion score to this potion. It should be entirely voluntary on his part, and I have enough problems getting him to socialize."

The Potion Master inclined his head fractionally, "I will agree to that, Pomona. Thank you."

**_

* * *

Thursday, September 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:45  
_**

* * *

"Y'know, this is your fault," Arthur said as he leaned over the table to address Mattie and Sprink. Lee elbowed him, and he muttered, "Sorry." 

"What's our fault?" Sprink asked.

"Professor Sprout is going to tutor me in Herbology."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" Lee asked.

"When it's your head of house? Dunno."

Mattie took a final gulp of coffee, then said, "Well, let's get to class, then."

* * *

Arthur approached Professor Sprout as she tidied up after class, asking, "You wanted to see me, ma'am?" 

"Yes, Mr. Morton." She glanced over at Mattie and Sprink, hovering just out of earshot, and motioned to them, adding, "This concerns you two, also." They moved closer as she continued to bustle about, adding, "The staff meeting yesterday ran a bit over, as we discussed various students. Mr. Morton, you'll be meeting with me Friday afternoons for remedial coaching on Herbology, while Miss Wayne will be taking remedial spellcasting with Professor Flitwick then."

"Yes, ma'am," Arthur said. "What about the potion Mattie and Sprink are doing for me?"

"You'll need to discuss that with Professor Snape," Sprout said. "However, I do agree with him that you need to pull your marks up, hence the tutoring. We discussed that potion briefly, and while I am not nearly the potioner Severus is, it does sound like a useful advance. If you don't mind my personal opinion, I wish it had been available when I was a young girl." She patted her hair, and found her reading glasses, settling them around her neck.

"Did… I come up at all?" Sprink asked hesitantly.

Professor Sprout smiled, "Only in conjunction with other werewolves, dear. Severus has a new ingredient that he is experimenting with regarding your wolfsbane potion." She tutted at Sprink's expression, and gave the young girl a hug, adding with a smile, "You're doing fine, dear. Now, off to lunch with you three! Go on, shoo!"

_**

* * *

Saturday, September 11, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms: 07:58**  
_

* * *

Lee knocked cautiously on the second-year girl's dorm. Sprink opened the door, clad in a towel, barefoot, with a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth. Motioning for silence, she waved Lee after her into the loo. A board stretched across two sinks, holding a coffeepot and teakettle, which gurgled. Spitting her toothpaste out, she closed the door, saying quietly, "Mattie sleeps in on weekends, and she's cranky when she gets up. Don' try talkin' to her until she's had coffee. What'ya need?" 

"Well, just… someone to talk to. I'm the only firstie girl in Slytherin, and, well… "

"There's only two of us," Sprink said, before gargling. She spat out her mouthwash; then took a sip of tea from her mug, adding, "Dorms were designed for up to ten in a year. If P'fessor Snape says it's good, wanna move in? He'd have to get th' house elves to move your trunk an' the furniture."

"That would be great! Think he would?"

"Only way to know is to ask, but I'd say it's a safe bet." Sprink picked up her wand and started to dry her hair, adding, "We can ask him at breakfast."

* * *


	5. Classes, Week Four, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

5 - Classes, Week Four, Second Year  
**_

* * *

Sunday, September 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin dorms: 02:50  
_**

* * *

"Huh!" With a jolt, Mattie sat upright in bed, panting slightly. Shaking her head, she muttered, "Weird dream," and glanced at her clock. Pulling her wand out of the compartment in her bed's headboard, she listened for a minute, hearing Sprink's snores. Parting the bed's hangings, she eased out, grabbing her robe, heading for the shower. 

"What are you doing up at this godforsaken hour?" Lee asked, yawning as she left the loo. "Won't you wake Sprink up?"

Mattie ducked her head under the water to rinse, answering, "It would take a bomb to wake up Sprink. I've had to use a bucket of ice water to get her up." She twisted the shower to cold, adding, "I had a weird dream, and I need to work it out, so I hit the gym." Shutting the water off, she added, "Until the Huffies refurbished the gym, I did katas in the common room, now I just floo over. That way we don't get caught out by Filch." She dried a leg, adding, "Wanna come?"

"Sure. I've never floo'd before, though." Lee scratched an itch, asking, "What was the dream about?"

"The rooftops of Gotham; it's my hometown. Ever been there?" Lee shook her head, and Mattie smirked, adding, "I love Gotham, I was homesick the first few months here. Hogwarts was just too…"

"Weird? Like I've heard about Gotham? People like Joker and Batman can't _really_ exist!" She bit her lip, adding, "Do they?"

Mattie gazed at her. "They do. Ask Sprink, or the Cortez twins, or Morton over in Hufflepuff what Gotham's like." Mattie straightened up, "Grab your wand, and something loose to exercise in if you want to join me."

* * *

Mattie recognized a fifth-year snoring at a table, a guttering candle illuminating his homework spread out before him. Motioning for silence, Mattie levitated him out of the chair and onto a couch, a conjured blanket spread over him as Lee quietly stacked his books. Blowing out the candle, she joined Mattie next to the fireplace, who whispered, "We watch out for each other. Use your wand, jab it at the fireplace and say '_incendio_' to light the fire." Once it was lit, she took a small clay pot from the mantle, "This is floo powder. This fireplace is only connected to the internal Hogwarts network, and only Slytherins can use it. Staff fireplaces can go anywhere." Taking a small amount, she showed it to Lee, passing her the pot, then saying, "Toss it in the fire, the flames will turn green, and say clearly 'Hufflepuff gym'. Step through the flames; I always seem to stumble on the other side. Watch me." With a flick of the wrist, and the command 'Hufflepuff gym!' she was gone. 

Mattie was waiting, brush in hand as Lee staggered out of the fire. She was dusted off, the soot being swept back to the fireplace. She glanced over; a fellow was working a weight machine. "Fellow insomniac?" she asked Mattie.

"Something like that," he answered, and she blushed, mumbling "Sorry."

"No worries, I've got better hearing than most," he replied, adding to Lee, "Jeremy Slater, and Flitwick's giving us a quiz Monday morning to review."

Mattie tossed her wand and towel against the wall, pulling off her robe and asking, "How were Hufflepuff's tryouts yesterday?"

"Pretty good, we'll give you blokes a good fight for the Cup."

Mattie grinned, "We'll find out in, when, March?" Jeremy nodded, adjusting another machine, and Mattie motioned to Lee, saying, "Let's find out where you are with tai-chi. I've only got one belt in it, though. Where do you stand?"

Lee bowed, "Only a green belt. How do you rank?"

"Officially, I've got one black in tai-chi, dual blacks in tai-kwon-do and Formosan karate, and a black in judo." Mattie grinned, adding, "_Unofficially_, since I can only test every five years, I'm working on my fourth degree in karate and TKD." She returned Lee's bow, and motioned for her to attack.

* * *

"Oh, god, my bruises have bruises," Lee moaned as she stepped out of the floo. 

"Was this one of Wayne's 'light' workouts?" Terry Higgs looked up, and Lee nodded.

"Wimp. Quidditch just isn't enough exercise," Mattie said as she stepped out of the fire. "Doesn't anyone want to come running with me? C'mon, it's only five miles!" Groans and thrown parchment answered this.

"I wanted to room with her?" Lee asked as she headed down the stairs to her dorm.

* * *

"Hmm. This is interesting," Mattie said, folding the Reporter's front page over. 

_Attempt on Dolores Umbridge?  
__By: Gina McKenzie, staff reporter _

_At a ribbon-cutting ceremony yesterday at the new Cornelius Fudge Orphanage, opening speaker Dolores Umbridge, Deputy Minister of Magic, was grazed by a crossbow bolt that embedded itself in Education Minister Percy Weasley's thigh. The bolt was removed at St. Mungo's; Mr. Weasley is expected to be released Monday. _

_Minister Umbridge was treated and released to her home; Minister Fudge had this to say: _

"_This is a clear example of disruptive elements trying to overturn the stability and security that the Wizarding world has needed so desperately for the last few years. We in the Fudge ministry have laboured to bring this to every wizarding household, unfortunately miscreants persist in trying to bring down the very foundations of our society. We extend the best wishes for a speedy recovery to both Minister Umbridge and Minister Weasley, and rest assured that the DMLE is working tirelessly to bring the criminals to justice." _

"Hmm. I wonder who's using a crossbow? They're not exactly common weapons." Mattie said.

"Only one I know of is the one Hagrid uses," Emma replied. "If he was aiming at Umbridge, he would have hit her, though."

**_

* * *

Sunday, September 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Slytherin tryouts: 13:20  
_**

* * *

The Slytherin faculty (with the exception of Professor Trelawney, who wasn't present) cast an _obscurus_ charm on the Quidditch pitch, Professor Snape nodding to Karen. She blew her whistle, then tapped her throat, muttering '_sonorous_'. "Right-o. I'm Karen, your Quidditch captain, and this is the Slytherin Quidditch tryouts. We're looking for a beater and a chaser on the primary team, two chasers and a keeper on the reserves. Anyone who's not trying out, please leave the field, and keep an eye out for nosy parkers from the other houses. '_Quietus_'." 

"Wish me luck," Sprink said.

Mattie looked over at her, "You're already on the team."

"Yeah, but I wanna try for Beater. Something about knocking an iron ball at people appeals to me."

Mattie chuckled, "Good luck."

* * *

The common room grew quiet as Karen entered, standing in front of the fire. "Ladies and gentlemen of the Snake's Den, it is my pleasure as your Quidditch captain to announce the 1999-2000 team. May I have the current team members up here with me?" Mattie stuck a bit of paper in her book, and worked her way to join the others. 

"Thank you. I am returning as one of your Chasers, as is Julie Dorney, (who waved). Her brother James is returning as your Keeper, and Frank MacDonald, in his last year is one of our Beaters. Our Seeker is none other than Mattie Wayne (who also waved), who holds a school record for the fastest catch of a snitch. Now, the new positions on the primary team: Making the move from Chaser to Beater is Sprink Tonks (who squealed), and our last Chaser is firstie Jeremy Pellew. See what you can get out of your Gryffie sister, mate!" There was a laugh at that, and Frank ruffled Jeremy's hair.

"Continuing on to the reserve squad, the Beaters remain…"

_**

* * *

Monday, September 20, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 07:58**  
_

* * *

"Rubeus Hagrid?" 

"Who wants tae …well, if it ain't lil' Nymphadora! An' Kingsley!"

"That's my sister!" Sprink said, as the green-haired Auror cleared her throat.

"Mr. Hagrid, I must ask you where you were Saturday between nine and one p.m.?"

"In tha' Forbidden Forest wi' P'fessor Snape an' P'fessor Sprout, why?"

"Oh, stop all this bother!" Cornelius Fudge snapped, pushing between the two Aurors. "Hagrid, you're under arrest for the attempted murder of Dolores Umbridge. There's a cell waiting for you in Azkaban, take him there immediately!"

"Bu' I dinnae…"

"Minister Fudge, I must ask you allow us to complete our investigation," the tall black Auror said calmly. "If Mr. Hagrid is…"

"He's guilty! Who else uses a crossbow? Take him away, now!" Fudge snapped.

The two Aurors glanced at each other; then Nymphadora stepped aside, and motioned to Hagrid. With a scraping of wood, he stood, just as the Headmaster finished his whispered conference. "That will not be necessary, Hagrid. Please take your seat." He stood, fixing the Minister with a frown. "I have been assured that Pomona and Severus were with Hagrid during the period in question. Indeed, they never lost sight of each other, as the area they were in was particularly dangerous. Severus was gathering fresh potion ingredients, and Pomona was interested in particular bulbs. Hagrid was the only guarantee of their safety with the acromantula colony, you see."

"A… acromantula colony?" Fudge sputtered. "There's no such…"

"I understand it is a sizable colony of several hundred individuals. Some are the size of a small dragon," Dumbledore said. "They are, of course, meat eaters. Now, Kingsley and Nymphadora are welcome to stay while they continue their investigation. I would ask all faculty and students to cooperate fully, and they can take as much time as they need. Hagrid, please do not leave the school grounds without informing them."

Fudge sputtered, and the Headmaster smiled gently, asking, "You thought they would pitch a tent on the lawn? We can find a spare room somewhere for them, I'm sure."

Fudge turned purple, snarling at the Headmaster, "You'd better keep better control of your staff, Dumbledore, or I'll send Dolores back to straighten things out again." The staff and many of the older students shuddered, and Fudge turned to survey the Slytherin table. He frowned; then glanced around the hall, surprised when he looked at the Gryffindor table. Giving the high table a final sneer, he strolled out, staggering a bit when he walked between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables.

"Blech," the Fat Friar said, materializing. "I do hate being walked through."

_**

* * *

Wednesday, September 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 07:42**  
_

* * *

Albus smiled, "A fairly short agenda this week. Was there anything else we needed to discuss?" 

Harry asked, "I was just wondering if anyone else had noticed an increase in Miss Wayne's power? Her control is still weak, but she seems stronger."

"I had noticed that also," Minerva said. "I wonder if it comes from that muggle weapon her brother got for her last year."

Harry covered his face. "Another one? Severus, can't you convince her to leave some in her dorm?"

"I don't believe she dares with this one," he replied. Kelly looked at him, and he said, "I believe it is called a 'power ring'. There are only two others like it in existence." Harry and Kelly traded glances with Professor Croft, the muggleborn Ancient Runes professor, the blood draining from their faces.

Filius glanced at them, curious. "You've heard of them? I confess I hadn't before the end of term last year."

"That ring can destroy this planet, if it's what I think it is," Lara Croft said quietly. She glanced at Filius, her former head of house, and snorted, "Funny, all I can think is what an advantage it would give her in Quidditch. Sorry, my mind is just… reeling."

"I will require her to surrender it before the match," Severus said. "However, I think it more likely that her family's suppressed magic is manifesting itself in her." He glanced at Pomona, asking, "Has Mr. Morton indicated his decision regarding Miss Tonks and Miss Wayne's potion?"

"Not to me, although his tutoring sessions just started. His major difficulty is distinguishing between the different species and phyla. They're all 'Just green to him' (she finger quoted)." She sighed, "Poor boy."

The potion master snorted, "I will ask him this morning. He cannot procrastinate any longer."

_**

* * *

Wednesday, September 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 09:00**  
_

* * *

The door slammed and locked on the tick of nine, the class instantly falling silent. Professor Snape appeared, black robes billowing as he turned to face the class. "Good morning. Today we will brew the Swelling Solution we discussed on Monday." He flicked his wand at the assignment board, adding, "Find your partner, and remember this is a shared grade." People started to get up, and he added, "One other thing," they froze, as he continued, "Miss Tonks, Miss Wayne, and Mr. Morton. See me after class."

* * *

Charlie shot a sympathetic look at Arthur as he left the chilly potions classroom. Sprink cleared her throat, asking, "You wanted to see us, sir?" 

"Yes, Mr. Morton, what is your decision regarding the potion?"

"After our discussion about the testing and since you'll sign off on it, I'll agree, pending the test results, sir."

"Very well; Miss Tonks, Miss Wayne, please take Mr. Morton to your dorm, where he can shave. You will need at least two grams of his chin shavings, although five would be preferable, and two cc's of blood to compensate for the delay. Have you ever drawn blood with a wand before?" Mattie looked at Sprink, both shook their heads.

"Very well, I will request Narcissa to do it; you will all practice under her supervision." He steepled his hands, then looked at Arthur, adding, "Mr. Morton, with your consent, I will ask for an additional two cc's of your blood. I am working on a revised wolfsbane potion; I would like you and Miss Wayne to be my control group."

"I have no objection, sir, as long as you or one of the medical staff does it," and Mattie nodded her agreement.

"What is the new potion, sir?" Sprink asked.

"New ingredients have become available, Miss Tonks. I will discuss this with you and your compatriots Saturday, but I will require blood and saliva samples from you during a full moon, without your having taken the potion."

Sprink blanched, saying, "I don't want to bite you, sir!"

"I have no desire to be bitten, Miss Tonks. I have worked out a way to do it in reasonable safety, which I will discuss with you Saturday." He motioned, adding, "Mr. Morton, water only when you shave, please."

_**

* * *

Friday, September 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom: 13:02**  
_

* * *

Mattie ran in the classroom, saying, "Sorry I'm late, professor. The staircases just weren't going in the right direction." 

"Quite all right, Miss Wayne, I arrived a moment ago myself," the tiny Charms professor said. Three other students followed her in, panting from the run up four flights to the third floor. "Now then, Miss Johnson, we were going over the flame-freezing charm in class. Why don't you start on that, while I attend to the others?"

Flitwick moved over, asking, "Now, Miss Wayne, you're still having problems with the colour-change spell?"

She nodded, "Everything comes out black and grey, Professor, even stuff I conjure." She scratched her back with her wand.

The professor raised his eyebrow, "Conjuring already? Let's see what you can do."

"So far it's just bigger stuff," she admitted. "A blanket's about as small as I can go," demonstrating with a large black blanket. "It only lasts about an hour, too," she added.

"Still… try changing the colour of the blanket to yellow whilst I attend to the others."

"Yellow I can just do, something like green or red, though…" Mattie flipped through her textbook, scrunched up her nose and waved her wand.

_**

* * *

Saturday, September 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 18:32**  
_

* * *

"Miss Fook, what are you doing here?" Professor Snape asked. 

"It's something to do with Sprink, and, well, she's my roomie…"

"Return to your dorm, Miss Fook. This does not concern you, although your concern for your housemate is noted." Lee left, grumbling, as Professor Sprout arrived with Jeremy Slater and a somewhat confused (but clean-shaven) Arthur Morton.

"I have come up with a more effacious version of the standard wolfsbane potion," the Potion Master said. "To test it, Miss Wayne and Mr. Morton have agreed to serve as my control group, and consume the potion, while Miss Tonks will forego her monthly dose. While confined with Miss Tonks, Mr. Slater and Miss Johnson will assist me in taking blood and saliva samples from Miss Tonks, their turns will occur later. Are there any questions?"

"What does it taste like?" Arthur asked.

"Bloody horrible," Amy Johnson said.

* * *

Mattie bit her knuckle as the agonized howl echoed through the small chamber, Arthur jumping next to her. Professor Snape stood next to the barred door, a long rod in his hands. "Force her head against the floor," he called into the cell, as he manipulated the rod, the snap of chains going taut echoing. He grunted, calling, "That's got it. Let her rest while I prepare for the blood sample." A snarl answered, and he pulled his rod back. 

"Mr. Morton," he called, "Perhaps you'd like to observe for a moment. Do not, under any circumstances, put a body part through the bars. A single nip from Miss Johnson or Mr. Slater on a fingertip is all that is required to infect you." He unscrewed a section of the rod, donning thick rubber gloves to remove the soaked sponge from the end and placing it in a plastic bag.

Arthur gulped; then edged next to the heavy, barred door. In the flickering torchlight, he saw two large wolves, their eyes red as they bent over a third, chained by the neck to the wall, a ring keeping her muzzle forced open. "Jeremy?" he asked, and a large, tawny wolf howled, cantering to within two feet of the door. He felt Professor Snape's hand on his shirt, pulling him back. Looking up, the professor said, "Remove that shirt, Mr. Morton. It will need to be burned."

"Sir?" he asked as he pulled it off.

"The possibility of Miss Tonk's saliva on my gloves, Mr. Morton. Tomorrow morning, take an immediate hot shower of at least thirty minutes. I will send a house-elf with an appropriate cleanser." He looked in the cell, "Can you tell which is which?"

"Jeremy is the big brown one, and Amy is the one with the reddish pelt, right?" The potion master nodded, "Sprink's the one with the dark grey fur. How'd they get the muzzle on?"

"She changed and donned it before the moon rose," he replied. Calling into the cell, he said, "Put her on her back, I'm aiming for one of the veins in the inner thigh."


	6. Interlude One, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

6 – Interlude One, Second Year

* * *

**_Friday, October 1, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister of Education's office: 07:50  
_**

* * *

The secretary looked up from her desk, standing to block the door. "I'm sorry, you can't go in. The Minister is very busy…" 

Two goblins pulled her aside, replacing her in her chair as the squad burst into the office. She tried again, one guard gently pushing her back while two others guarded the door.

"Percy Ignatius Weasley?" the lead goblin snapped. The tall, thin redhead looked up, he replied "Yes," before thinking.

"You are under arrest for fraud and the theft of 433, 612 galleons, four sickles, three knuts." Weasley's jaw dropped open, his eyes blinking behind his spectacles. The goblin snatched the wand and moneybag from his hands, saying, "I'm confiscating these as evidence. We've been watching you since May, Weasley, you've been handling stolen funds to make your payroll, and you signed a contract. You're personally liable." He leaned close, asking, "DO you have 433,612 galleons, four sickles, and three knuts, Weasley?"

"Of course not! No one has that kind of money lying about!"

"On the contrary, several of our wealthier clients have that in petty cash." The goblin leaned closer, adding, "They don't like being stolen from, Weasley. Go easy on yourself, co-operate with us. Where did you get the moneybag?"

"I… I think I need to speak to a solicitor."

"As you wish. How will you pay them?"

"I… I have a few galleons saved up."

"Already attached," the goblin smirked, "Page 269, paragraph 6b of your contract, Weasley. You should read what you sign." He motioned, "Take him away."

Percy stood, fists clenched, "I'll be out of Azkaban before nightfall."

"Who said you were going to Azkaban, Weasley? Do you think we're STUPID? Fudge would have you out of there before the ink was dry." He added, "If it was in his interest, of course. No, we have a MUCH more secure place to keep you. Who do you wish notified of your imprisonment?"

_**

* * *

Saturday, October 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:12**  
_

* * *

"Post's here!" 

Mattie looked up as the usual swarm of post owls (and bats) circled over her table, much to the amusement of Sprink's sister 'Tonks', who had joined them for breakfast. "D'you mind?" Emma said, and Mattie waved her hand. "Oy, some of you for Wayne, line up here!" she called up. Several broke off their pattern, and landed, forming a slightly ragged line.

"How long has this been going on?" Tonks asked.

"Beginning of term," Jeremy said. "Another howler!" he called, tossing the smoking red envelope down the table. Mattie sighed and popped it open, where an angry voice started to yell about the Bat's performance in Friday night's game. She batted it away, muttering, "We won, didn't we? Don't these people have anything else to do?"

"Apparently not," Karen said with a chuckle as she joined them.

"Letter from Gringott's" Sprink warned, as the massive owl stalked forward, ignoring the other owls to their displeasure.

"Thank you," Mattie told it, offering it a bowl of owl treats. It hooted regally, took a drink; then flew off as Mattie opened the letter. "Hmm. They made an arrest in that fraud case. Wonder…"

"Wayne! Why did you have my BROTHER arrested?" Ginny screamed, waving the Reporter and her wand at Mattie. She was too mad to aim her hex properly; hitting someone on the Ravenclaw table as Mattie ducked and rolled, coming up in a combat crouch. As they screamed and pawed at their face, Mattie grabbed a tea-saucer, flinging the small gold plate at Ginny.

Ginny saw the incoming plate, but couldn't get out of the way in time. It hit her temple, dropping her unconscious to the floor.

"Ginny!" Professor Harry shouted, jumping the head table and running, wand out.

"Oh, Merlin!" Tonks ran to intercept Harry as the sixth and seventh years traded looks, then called '_protegro unisys_'. Karen levitated Ginny's unconscious form to Harry, who caught it while Mattie slipped away from the table, assuming a defensive stance.

"Staff to meet in ten minutes…" Professor Dumbledore said calmly.

* * *

"Does anyone know what Mrs. Potter was concerned about?" Albus asked, as the tea set floated about the room. 

"Ginny? Her brother Percy was arrested by the goblins on fraud charges." Minerva intercepted the floating tea-tray, "Apparently the Education Ministry's been operating off stolen funds, Miss Wayne's primarily."

Passing the tea set to Pomona, Minerva started handing out sheaves of paper, "I've printed and highlighted the appropriate account. We're going to have to scale our operations back."

Grunts and the click of teacups answered her, followed by the scratch of quills.

Severus broke the silence, "If I restrict the use of crystalware to the most sensitive potions, and enforce student replacement of breakage, it will help. Ordinary potions can be handled with glassware, but the quality of the phials are inconsistent."

Pomona was doing longhand math on the back of a sheet. "If I replace two thirds of my dragon dung with ordinary manure, I can save money, but I'll need to use more manure." She scribbled a bit more; then sighed, throwing down her quill. "Not an enormous amount of savings. Severus, perhaps I could substitute a potion for fertilizer?"

He grunted, Albus saying, "We needn't do this now, but we should meet before lunch. Go over your department and house budgets, we'll meet again at eleven."

* * *

Mattie poked her head into the Infirmary, asking Narcissa in a whisper, "How's Ginny?" 

"Go see for yourself," she replied with a smile.

Ginny held out her hand, calling, "Mattie? I'm… sorry."

"So am I. I understand about your brother, he's family," she said, sitting on Ginny's bunk and squeezing her hand. "When Gringott's came to me and said someone was robbing my account, just after I'd gotten out of Azkaban, well… I wanted revenge, and I figured it was Fudge doing it, so I authorized the investigation. I'd feel the same way if someone arrested my brother. We'll work something out, don't worry about it."

"Excuse us," Professor Harry said with a smile. He leaned over to kiss his wife, and didn't hear her leave.

_**

* * *

Saturday, October 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 10:34**  
_

* * *

A jagged streak of lightning danced across the sky, illuminating the students through the enchanted roof. A few seconds later, thunder boomed as rain fell against the old leaded glass windows. More lightning flashed, overpowering the hundreds of floating candles. 

"I don't understand why _you_ don't have problems in spellcasting, when _I_ do and we come from similar backgrounds," Mattie complained to Arthur.

He snorted. "Similar? Okay, maybe it's because I'm good at math, while you're good at chemistry." She grunted, and he continued, "I just think of an object as four-dimensional."

"Four dimensions? What are you lot on about now?" Amanda asked, looking up from her potions textbook.

"Okay, maybe it should be five or six," Arthur admitted. "The point is, if you use a rubber universe, you can bend and stretch it however you like. We know you can create colors, you've done it with _arcus_ and _obscurus_." Mattie raised a skeptical eyebrow, Arthur adding, "Just like in programming, pass it an argument. Try creating an arcus bomb, but don't release it. Hold it and change the color."

Mattie gazed at him suspiciously; then waved her hand, a glaring white ball of energy appearing. Closing her eyes, the ball turned black, with yellow bands.

"Change the bands to scarlet. Ballycastle's colours," Andrew whispered.

"Now Tutshill's sky blue," murmured Professor Flitwick, climbing on the bench to stand next to Sprink. She turned to look up at him, and he winked, holding his finger to indicate silence.

"Now flatten out the ball, just like squishing cookie dough," Arthur murmured. "Raise it up a bit, though." Mattie nodded, eyes closed, forehead coated in sweat. "Nice and flat, just like tortillas, keeping the same blue dough."

"Tortillas?" Amanda whispered, and one of the twins leaned over to whisper to her.

"Now take that tortilla dough, and we're going to play with it before we bake it," Arthur continued. "We're going to make it solid, by drawing the energy out of it, so put your thumb in the dough, and drain it out your pinky. That's right." Arthur licked his lips, and Filius mimed drinking tea. Arthur nodded, adding, "Things shrink when they're heated, so we need a small disk, about ten inches across." The blue hovering disk shrank, becoming thicker, Arthur saying, "Pinch off some of that and make, um, four balls with it, then tidy up the disk. Stack two of the balls on top of each other, and scoop out the middle of the other two balls, like an ice-cream scoop."

Frank McDonald had wandered over, and Professor Flitwick gestured him to silence as Arthur continued, "Hollow out the two stacked balls, and put all of them on the disk. Now gently lower the disk (the twins and Charlie clearing room), and… open your eyes."

Mattie sat back with a whoosh of expelled breath; then looked at the blue tea set resting on the wooden table, blinked, and asked, "I did that?"

"You did, thanks to Mr. Morton's excellent instructions!" Professor Flitwick said. "I do think that's worth ten points to Mr. Morton!"

_**

* * *

Saturday, October 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 12:13**  
_

* * *

The Headmaster stood, tapping his wineglass, and the Great Hall quieted. "Thank you. I thought you'd like to know the financial status of Hogwarts, given this morning's news article." He cleared his throat, saying, "First of all, the school will NOT close. Your tuition and boarding fees are paid through the end of the academic year into a separate account. Where this shortfall will affect us is in budget items like commissary supplies, maintenance, supplies and recreation, and unfortunately staff salaries." He cleared his throat, and took a sip of water before continuing, "What this means to you is less … extravagant meals, more soups, stews, casseroles and vegetables. It means only critical repairs, and it also means that if you break something, you will be paying for a replacement. Regarding staff salaries, it means we are working on finding alternative financing. Lastly, it also means that the more expensive clubs and groups like the house Quidditch teams, are cancelled for …" A roar of protest drowned out the headmaster. 

After a few minutes, the headmaster cast a silencing spell, and calmly said, "If you will do me the courtesy to let me finish?" He looked about; then removed the spell, "Thank you. We are in a financial crunch, and must tighten belts. Unfortunately, that means extracurricular activities, no matter how enjoyable, that cost the school and do not enhance your education must be cancelled…" he held up his hand, "…unless they can pay their way. The Quidditch teams are not the only ones, but they are admittedly the most popular. Others, such as the drama and choral clubs are in the same dilemma. We are open to _reasonable_ suggestions from everyone; please see your Head of House."

"Why don't we have Wayne pay for it? She's got more money than god!" someone called from the Gryffindor table.

"It would not be fair to Miss Wayne, the money was stolen from her originally, and lastly, it would give the impression she was buying her grades," McGonagall snapped. "We try to treat everyone equally here, Mr. Branson, no matter their financial status, house, or bloodline. Is that clear?"

"This does bring up an important point," the Headmaster added. "Those of you on scholarships or financial aid, please meet with your head of house. For now, as I said, constructive suggestions would be appreciated."

* * *


	7. Classes, Week Six, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

7 – Classes, Week Six, Second Year

* * *

**_Tuesday, October 5, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 09:04  
_**

* * *

The door opened at Mattie's approach, the Headmaster waving her in as Professor McGonagall turned; sheaves of parchment in her hands. "Come in, come in Miss Wayne," he called. "Just going over figures on where we can economize." 

"I feel somewhat guilty about that," she said. "After all, I did authorize Gringott's to investigate."

"Nonsense," Minerva said. "You have no control over the Ministry's budgeting process. When Minister Fudge decides to move funds from one account to another, it's not your concern at all."

"Still, I had an idea. I'll have to investigate it further before I suggest it," Mattie said.

"Good, good. I did have a request from Madame Pomfrey that you see her. Would you like to continue with our lessons next week, as this problem is a bit pressing?"

Mattie nodded, "I'll do that. Thank you, Headmaster, Professor."

* * *

Poppy Pomfrey looked up at the knock on her doorframe. "Madame Pomfrey? You wanted to see me?" 

"Miss Wayne, please come in," she said as she waved the girl in, silently casting several spells on her. "Close the door, please." Picking up her wand, she ostentatiously cast '_obscurus_' for a privacy shield.

"There's a couple arguments you can pass to that spell," Mattie said, sitting down, a proper young lady. "I like '_obscurus aqua_' myself, gives a nice wavy blue effect, like ocean waves. What can I do for you?" Her open body language and her aura showed a mild turquoise of curiosity, together with a very strong grey of secrecy (far greater than most Slytherins), a touch of yellow impatience, bordered by a thin red line of anger and another thin black line of evil. Poppy didn't worry about the last two, everyone conscious showed those.

"Narcissa and I were reviewing student health records, and we came across a discrepancy regarding you." Poppy watched her aura change, the red of anger surging a bit in reflex at the invasion of privacy, the body language closing down in conjunction with the surge of curiosity. Miss Wayne remained outwardly calm, her magical aura surging in a wash of blue, restrained by thin lines of yellow control.

"That would be?"

"You are one of only two witches in your age group who has not yet come to us requesting information or potions regarding menses." '_Ah, there it is_,' Poppy thought, as Miss Wayne's eyes narrowed slightly, '_Look at that spike of anger. Yes, her magic is surging, too._'

"I could have looked it up online, or brewed the potion myself."

"Indeed, you might have looked it up yourself, however, Severus assures me your potion skills are not yet up to brewing the correct formula." '_A shot of green betrayal. Interesting, she regards Severus as a father-figure of some sort, possibly as a fellow clansman or trusted ally?_' "In addition, several of the ingredients are restricted. You may have obtained them illegally, but for this potion, that makes no sense." The girl's eyes flickered, as Poppy continued, "In addition, for best results, the formula is adjusted for each person. Yours would be slightly different than, say, Minerva's."

'_A spike of curiosity,_' "Professor McGonagall takes it? Isn't she, well, too old?"

"Not at all. Witches and wizards have more than double the muggle lifespan. You may very well reach 215 or so, while your male counterparts will reach two hundred. Minerva has thirty or so years left for childbearing."

Miss Wayne sprang up and started to pace, red anger surging along with her magic. Severus had warned her that Miss Wayne was a physical type, whose stress outlet was exercise of some sort. Poppy had wondered how long she would sit quietly in a chair. Sitting back, she let the girl calm herself, mildly curious why she had gotten upset at that point. Severus had said that she was extremely _unlikely_ to attack her personally (as some students had done), that Miss Wayne considered it 'safer' to take out her anger in the gym. That was, however, part of the problem. After a few minutes, she threw herself back in the chair, muttering, "Childbearing."

"You _are_ female."

'_A spike of purple jealousy, interesting._' "Don't I know it," the girl said, lapsing into a moody silence, breaking it with, "Boys have it so **_easy_**!"

"They have their own problems, physical as well as emotional and psychological," Poppy said, with a spike of curiosity from the girl. "While there are gender-changing spells and potions, they do not convey the social training, the mannerisms that let us determine male from female."

She grunted, lapsing again into a moody silence. Poppy waited patiently, until Miss Wayne sighed, her anger collapsing down into a slightly thicker red line. "Y'see, over the summer break, I went on a road trip with Sprink and Arthur. Um, Miss Tonks and Mr. Morton." Poppy nodded slightly, the girl continued, "During the trip, we took a couple of drops of aging potion, to get us up to twenty or so. Well, during that time, I … I … bled."

Poppy waited silently, and after a minute, Miss Wayne elucidated. "I had always wondered if I would be as big as Mom, y'know, her boobs. Tits. Whatever. Well, I know I will now, and I also know how heavy they can get," she added, waving at her flat chest. "They were kinda neat, and I enjoyed the guys looking, but, about a week and a half after I took the potion, I felt this awful cramp, down, well, down there, and I felt … wet. I thought I had peed myself somehow. So I stopped in a washroom, and there was this … awful bloody … mess." She gazed sightlessly at the desk, adding, "I couldn't get the stain out, and I smelled awful. I had to burn the jeans. My favorite pair, too, and it just kept _coming_!" She looked up, asking, "Why doesn't Sprink, um…"

"A side effect of the werewolf condition is that Miss Tonks and Miss Johnson only come into season during the full moon. To produce a full-blooded werewolf, Mr. Slater must impregnate them during a full moon. As they do not want other werewolves born, they restrain themselves during that time. Their potion also has an ingredient that helps to dull their libido. They are otherwise normal, although female werewolves do not suffer from menstruation. You may need to watch out for both anemia and calcium loss." Poppy looked over her glasses, asking, "Have you… experimented?"

'_Green embarrassment_' "It's a sin! Father Tim… I shouldn't…"

"Be like every other person on this planet?" Poppy snorted. "In any case, that is not what I asked you here to discuss. You have what I believe to be an obsession with exercise. It is impeding the normal, healthy development of your body, which is why you have not started menstruation. As I said, you are one of only two witches in first and second year who have not contacted either your head of house, or us. Why not?"

"Well, Professor Snape's a …"

"Man?" Poppy snorted. "Please be assured that he and Professor Flitwick have dealt with quite a few hormonal teenaged witches, just as Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout have embarrassed a number of oversexed young wizards." Poppy raised her hand, adding, "I also don't want to hear about the dangers of your hometown. I wrote a mmail …"

"email"

"… email to your physician of record, Dr. Phillips, who informs me that he discussed this with you over the Christmas holidays. He adds that you can be somewhat obsessive, and that he suggested exercise no more than three times a week while your body was changing." She opened her mouth, but Poppy rolled on, "He upgraded it to a warning during the summer hols, when you appeared to dismiss his suggestion." She pulled a folder out, passing it to Miss Wayne, and sat back.

The girl gazed at her warily, then flipped open the file and started to read. Like all of Poppy's own Ravenclaws, and the great majority of Slytherins, she started in the back, reading forward chronologically. The Hufflepuffs tended to flip through their files, while the Gryffindors would stop at the first bit of medical jargon. She sat back and watched Miss Wayne's expression (and aura) while she read. She finally flipped the cover closed, almost absently placing it neatly and squarely on Poppy's desk blotter. She sat back, hands steepled, and thought. Glancing at Poppy, she asked, "If I don't? If I continue with what you consider an 'unhealthy obsession with exercise', what then?"

"I am not objecting to your exercising, indeed I applaud it, in moderation. I wish that some of your schoolmates, indeed, some faculty members as well, would participate. However, if you do not agree to restrict yourself to three times a week, for no more than…" Poppy narrowed her eyes, "… ten hours total, not including Quidditch, I will ban you from the gymnasium."

"I don't need a gym, I can use my common room, or the dorm."

"Very true. However, I would eventually hear about it, and would then be forced to put you on medical waiver for Quidditch." The two locked eyes, green to brown. The girl sighed, "I'll agree to twelve hours a week, it's more evenly divided."

Poppy nodded, but Mattie said, "That doesn't really help with my stress, you know."

"Your schoolwork…?"

Miss Wayne snorted, jumped up, and started to pace. "If only it was that. People think, 'Oh, it must be great to be rich,' but they don't realize the stresses that come with it. Yes, you can hire extra security, but then you wonder if you, or they, have missed something that will kill you." She glanced over to Poppy, adding, "Nutjobs and whackos have gotten through the _best_ security, killing kings and presidents. When it's your parents, you worry, even though there's _nothing_ you can do. Did you know that my dad has a price on his head?" Poppy sat up, shocked, and she continued, "Ten million galleons. Then again, I've been kidnapped _twice_ while I was here, despite the headmaster's security. Yes, I know once was at the Ministry, but can you really blame me for being paranoid? For working on martial arts, improving and tuning my body, because, when it comes down to it, all I can really rely on is myself. It's nice to have others, but they can be taken out."

She flung herself in the chair again, adding, "Did you know I had an escape from Azkaban worked out when Mom and Professor McGonagall rescued me? The only problem was that I had to use _Imperious_; I was trying to figure out a way around that. I'd rather not be actually guilty of casting an Unforgivable, you see. I figured I had to escape quickly, before the dementors made me lose my mind, and I was too weak to do it. You know that one guard was withholding food and water from me, until I consented to sex?"

Poppy's mouth dropped open in shock, as Miss Wayne started to pace again. "I'm sure he would have eventually just raped me, and yes, I know not all men are like that." She tapped her forehead, adding, "Up here. Emotionally, though, psychologically, I'm associating sex with that asshole, and my period with sex. At least according to that shrink in New York." She started to do isometric exercises against the wall, adding, "'Exercise is a defense mechanism', she said. I'm 'getting ready for the next one', even though, if I were willing to void my oaths, it would have been trivial to snap that asshole's neck, or leave _him_ writhing in that cell in agony as the tide came in. I wouldn't need a wand, or magic." She looked over at Poppy, adding, "The North Sea flooded those cells. Asshole arranged my chains so I took a saltwater bath twice a day."

She took a deep breath, then said, "See why I'm not right when you associate my period with…" she scrunched up her nose, "…childbirth? It's a disgusting, messy process; that I'd rather avoid if I can. So I obsess about exercise, which lets me avoid all the other problems in my life."

"I was given to understand that your brother gave you a weapon of some kind…"

"Ah, yes, the ring," She took her seat again, leaning forward to show her right hand, a rather ordinary dull grey ring rested on her middle finger, the design a simple circle with a bar above and below. Turning it, she added, "Doesn't look like much, does it? Only two others in the galaxy, though." She sat back, adding, "With this ring, I can take the moon out of its orbit, and drop it in the Atlantic Ocean, or kick planets out of their orbits, destroying all life on them. I think you'll agree; it's a rather potent weapon. Now, I love my brother dearly, but I did NOT want this. I'm stuck with it, though." She worked it off her finger, tossing it on the desk, where it rolled to face Poppy. Miss Wayne added, "By the way, it's intelligent."

**_

* * *

Wednesday, October 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:34  
_**

* * *

"That concludes old business," Albus said, sipping his tea. "Moving on, has anyone had suggestions for financing?" 

"One of my sixth-years asked if we were planning on soliciting donations from alumni," Filius said. "It's apparently a common practice among muggle schools. Even a few galleons here and there can apparently add up to quite a bit."

"How much is 'quite a bit'?" Minerva asked. "Our commissary bill alone over the last few years averages between ten and eleven thousand galleons a month. By paring down the number of roasts, hams and such, we can trim that, and if we can budget for three new hothouses, we can increase our supply of vegetables."

"That would be better nutritionally for everyone," Poppy said. "Of course, I've also been on several of you to exercise more," glancing pointedly at several people.

"Well, then all we need do is to come up with six thousand galleons for the three hothouses. I don't think our capital improvement budget has that much room in it." Minerva sighed, "Albus, I'm being stretched too thin. I'm now two weeks behind in handing back homework, in addition to my other duties. I'm sadly neglecting my students to worry about the budget. Why, I didn't even know about a fight in my common room until a day after it happened!" She rested her head in shaking hands, "My students have to be my top priority!"

"What was the fight about?" Irma Pince asked.

"You-know-who, would you believe it? Miss Koslowski got off some very advanced hexes and jinxes, several rather dark." Minerva looked over her glasses at Harry, "What have you been teaching them?"

He held up his hands, "Nothing darker than the shielding charm. How would a muggleborn firstie know dark hexes? Has she been sneaking into the restricted section?"

Irma snorted, "Not MY restricted section! It's locked up tighter than a drum."

Callista Vector cleared her throat, "Getting back on track, I'll take over the budgeting for you, Minerva. I need something to get my mind off my old maid status."

"I thought you and Warren…" Pomona said.

Callista shook her head. "Wasn't meant to be; besides, there were, um… Quidditch differences between us."

"Quidditch differences," Severus drawled, eyes hooded. He met Callista's eyes; then slowly nodded, "That will do it. My sympathies."

"Yes, why don't you come by my quarters Friday night after seven," Pomona said. "I've got a gallon of ice cream on reserve with the elves, Minerva can bring the books; we can have a regular 'girl's night' of it!"

"Ice cream, accounting and girl talk, sounds like … fun." Callista said, eyes going wide when Pomona made a small pinching gesture next to her lips. As Pomona slowly drew the pinch away, Callista added, "I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

"Medically speaking, fire whisky helps with ice cream overdoses," Poppy said. "I'll ask Narcissa to attend for the medical department. She's been in need of ice cream for some time now."

"Well, such a wonderful thing," Albus said. "Perhaps we ought to get to class, now."

**_

* * *

Friday, October 8, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Pomona Sprout: 19:24  
_**

* * *

Severus rapped once on Pomona's door, after a minute it swung open, Pomona smiling, "Sev! Please, come in, come in!" 

"I shan't stay long; I offered to look in on the Gryffindors for Minerva. I came to offer two potions. The first, in the green flask, enhances the 'effect' of your ice cream." He smirked, adding, "Use only in very small doses. The red potion will completely negate the effects of your 'ice cream', and any additives. One shot per person at the end of the evening." He bowed slightly and left.

"Y'know, under that cold exterior," Callista said, "there beats the heart of… of… ah, Merlin take it! What were we discussing?

"Men!" Minerva said, shaking loose her bun. "Now, Filius, on the other hand…"

**_

* * *

Friday, October 8, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Gryffindor tower: 19:44  
_**

* * *

"Hello, Severus!" the fat lady said. "I don't see you up this way too often." 

"I am checking on Minerva's students for her, while she is otherwise occupied," he said. "The staff password is '_anagram_'."

"It certainly is! In you go," she said as she swung wide.

A widening cone of silence greeted the Potion Master as he entered the Gryffindor common room. He scowled, stalking about the room, leaning over an engrossed student at the chessboard. His opponent looked up, saw the looming form of the head of Slytherin a few inches away and jumped, knocking over his king, but Professor Snape was gone.

Severus stopped at a table, leaning over Violet Pellew as she did her potions homework. A long finger tapped a paragraph in her book, and she looked up, but he had already moved on. He cleared his throat at a couple engrossed in each other, frowning at the boy, who let out a frightened 'Eep!'. Silently, he moved up the girl's staircase, stopping at the first year's landing, giving a quick knock and opening the door to lean in. The silent common room didn't hear what he said, but there were immediate thumps and bangs. The door was closed, and he climbed the stairs to the second-year's.

After he finished with the girls dorms, he silently ascended the boy's, to the accompaniment of cursing and points being deducted. On the fifth-year's dorm, a school tie (Hufflepuff) was hung on the doorknob. The common room waited as the door was silently opened, an enraged bellow turning to a scream of fear. Feminine screams were heard among the shouting, and a blonde figure in a terrycloth robe escaped, running sobbing out the portrait hole.

"Her name, Bayes, or it will be two hundred points and **FOUR** weeks of detention with **ME**!" the common room heard. "Do you want to marry the girl? She must drink a potion within **_SIX_** hours to prevent conception! There is no reason to ruin **_HER_** life, you arrogant, thickheaded fool! What is her name?"

The potion master slammed the fifth-year's door after him, stalking up to check the sixth and seventh. Coming back down, the students in the common room cringed away from the Potion Master as he stalked across the room to the fire. Taking a bit of floo powder, he snarled, "Hufflepuff common room!" and was gone.

**_

* * *

Friday, October 8, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff common room: 20:33  
_**

* * *

"Mr. Slater," the Potion Master asked as he stepped out of the fireplace, "Where is Miss Geary?" 

"She ran in a few minutes ago, sir, crying her eyes out," the werewolf said. "She's in her dorm. Is there a problem?"

"I hope not," Professor Snape replied, nodding his thanks as he stalked across to the stairs leading down to the girl's dorms. He vanished from sight, and Jeremy traded looks with others in the common room.

Severus knocked once on the third-year's dorm, then entering. He saw the blonde, still in her bathrobe, crying on her bunk, being comforted by other girls. He cleared his throat, "Miss Michaels, Miss Geary needs to drink a potion within six hours to prevent conception. If you can be spared, she will have it available."

"It's not in the cabinet?" Abby asked, referring to the collection of headache cures and other household remedies stocked in each dorm. Severus moved to check, then shook his head.

"But he said he … _cared_ about me!" Geary wailed, breaking into a fresh batch of tears. Abby rolled her eyes; then motioned to the door.

* * *

"Thank you, Professor," Abby said as they walked to the Potion Master's office. He nodded fractionally, and she continued, "How'd you find out about it, though? Neither one is a Slytherin." 

"My Slytherins would never risk my displeasure," he said. "Mr. Bayes' four weeks of detention with me would be eight were he a Slytherin. Both Minerva and Pomona are working on the budget cock-up right now, as is Callista. Filius was to attend to Hufflepuff for Pomona, whilst I took Gryffindor. I was doing a bed-check when I discovered the two of them without protection of any sort." He stopped, and hissed at a statue, which rolled aside.

"I didn't know you were a parseltongue, Professor."

"I am not. The statue only responds in parseltongue; one of Salazar Slytherin's more amusing jokes. These were once his quarters. I do not know the pass phrase to change the password, and Professor Potter was unable to deduce it. The phrase itself is a rather racy insult on mammalians." He gestured her in, adding, "Do not, of course, touch anything."

"Of course," clasping her hands behind her, she strolled about as the potion master lit a fire, pouring a yellow fluid into a small cauldron. As he worked, she glanced at a small disk of paper with a grayish material. "Professor, what's this? I don't recognize it."

"That is moon dust. It is a Class A non-tradable item, selling on the black market for approximately fifty thousand galleons the tenth-gram. The Americans have the world's only supply, they think." He smirked, adding, "That disk holds Hogwart's entire yearly budget. I am working on a revised wolfsbane potion, now come away. Miss Geary's potion is ready, it must be drunk hot."

**_

* * *

Saturday, October 9, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ravenclaw table: 07:32  
_**

* * *

Lee and Sprink wandered into the Great Hall, joining the Cortez twins and Amanda at their wave. Lee yawned, pouring a cup of coffee, while Sprink added milk to her tea. Shaundra (or Roshawn) leaned over, asking, "Heard the latest?" 

"Latest what?" Charlie asked, carrying his tea over from Hufflepuff. He waved to Arthur, who was just entering the hall.

"The latest gossip, silly," the other twin said. "We heard Snape invaded the Gryffie common room last night!"

Lee saw her yearmate Violet enter, and waved her over as Amanda snorted. "I was there, working on DADA homework, and I saw him. I wouldn't exactly call it an _invasion_, though. He prowled around, leaned over Violet's shoulder and startled a lot of people, but then he walked up the stairs to do a bed check."

"He yelled at one of the fifth-year boys, gave him four weeks of detention (they all shuddered), and docked two hundred points!" Violet added, "We're in negative numbers, aren't we?" She looked at Amanda, "If our Quidditch team is really, really good, then maybe…"

Sprink and the Cortez twins traded a look, and burst out laughing. Amanda frowned, "Excuse me! I _am_ one of the Chasers, you know."

"Why no, we didn't. Thanks ever so much, mate," Sprink answered cheerfully. "You've still got to get past our Ballistic and our own record-setting Seeker if you're going to get the House Cup on Quidditch points alone." She raised her teacup, "Speaking of who… you're up early, mate!"

"You're dumping ice water on me didn't help," Mattie complained, sitting between Violet and Lee. "Pass the coffeepot, please."

"You're going to turn into a coffee urn yourself," Arthur said as he passed it over. "I may not follow Quidditch like you do, but that's a weak strategy," he mentioned to Violet. "You've got to recover your deficit; then score more points than two pretty good teams."

"Thank you, Arthur," one of the twins said. "You play Slytherin next month, and then Gryffindor plays Ravenclaw in April. Now, Sprink here is a pretty good Chaser (Mattie kicked Lee under the table when she opened her mouth), but we have a new Keeper that's going to give you fits. Mattie there has the fastest broom in school, and has a school record for the fastest catch of a Snitch."

The other twin added, "Right now, you Gryffies are down 260 points. That's eleven goals _and_ catching the Snitch against Slytherin just to break even with the beginning of term. Even if all three of the other house teams _and_ their reserves didn't take the field, you'd win by default, but not with what you need, points."

"So what do we _do_?" Violet asked plaintively.

"Get your guys to keep their pants on," one twin suggested, Amanda replying "Oy, it wasn't…"

"Post's here!" someone called, and the usual flock of owls came in, one separating and flying above the rest.

"Oh, dear!" Amanda said, looking at the lone black owl with a black envelope clutched in its claws. "That's a Ministry death notice. I wonder who…" She half-stood, looking around the hall with other people, as the owl flew out, message undelivered.

A number of owls were circling above, intermixed with bats. Mattie pushed back, and addressed the Hufflepuffs behind her, "I'm about to get several Howlers, and I'd like to apologize in advance." Resuming her seat, she added, "That's why I like the Slytherin table, there's a solid wall behind me I can throw them against." She took a breath, "Bring 'em on!"

Sprink called up to the owls, "Oy, some of you for Wayne, line up here!" As they split off, Violet asked, "How long has this been going on?"

"Beginning of term," Lee answered, relieving a bat of its letter. "The bats are business correspondence, and the Howlers (one shouting about a missed goal) are fan mail." She untied another note, adding, "The box ticket holders seem to be the worst, rich arrogant bastards. Of course, if _they_ ran the team, everything would be _perfect_."

"Not all rich people are arrogant bastards," Mattie said. "Just most of the ones I've met," She cringed at another Howler, before batting it away. "Why are they writing me? I don't decide strategy, that's the coach's job." She stood up as the last Howler finished, and told the Hufflepuff table, "Sorry about that, everyone."

"We're used to it by now," Amy Johnson said from the Hufflepuff table.

As Charlie passed down the rest of Mattie's correspondence, he asked Violet, "How's your study group coming?"

"What study group?"

"Find some other first-years that you can work with and put together a study group," Arthur replied.

"We've already got those in Gryffindor," Violet said.

Charlie shook his head, "An interhouse group. I'm with Arthur, Sprink, Mattie, Amanda and the Cortez twins. Between all of us, only one failing grade for the year."

Mattie added, "My Transfig exam last year."

Arthur snorted, "That would not have happened if you hadn't been kidnapped by Fudge and thrown in Azkaban." He glowered, "My goal is to make sure you pass this year."

Violet and Lee traded looks, as Charlie said, "Long story, I'll tell you later. The point is that between our lot, we've got a bunch of different backgrounds. See, Arthur here is a whiz at math, he got me through some of the rough patches in Astronomy."

"Mattie's a great chemist," Arthur added.

"Arthur, Mattie and the twins all come from the Colonies and muggle backgrounds, so Sprink, Amanda and I get to explain a few things about England and the magical world that they don't understand. It balances out," Charlie finished.

"But an inter-house group? We're supposed to do that sort of thing in house," Violet said, adding, "What about McGonagall and that bit about we're supposed to consider each other family?"

"Some things you keep in house, like Quidditch, and pranks," Sprink said. "Other things, Arthur here is a bloody genius when it comes to charms. I'm not going to ignore that just because he's a Huffie."

Arthur snorted back a laugh as Charlie glared at him. "Don't mind the cynical bloke; he's got six brothers and sisters. But seriously, each House, even Slytherin, has certain assets the others don't. Slythies are generally best at things like potions and herbology, for instance. If you put together the right group, you can benefit from all their strengths and help cover each other's weaknesses."

"Except for Quidditch," Sprink added.


	8. Classes, Week Seven, Second Year

A/N: To answer a question, I don't write every week, because I think most of the time, it's a routine day – classes, meals, studying, etc. The "same old, same old". The Reporter missing Lucius' death was intentional, BTW.

* * *

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

8 – Classes, Week Seven, Second Year

* * *

**_Wednesday, October 13, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:02  
_**

* * *

Albus took a sip of tea, then added, "One last bit of news, Narcissa will be taking a few days off. She is meeting with her solicitor in London this morning." 

"Solicitor? I do hope there's nothing wrong," Filius said.

"No, as I understand it this has to do with the estate." Albus paused, adding, "Lucius' death in Azkaban?"

"I don't recall anything in the Reporter, and I doubt the Prophet would have anything," Callista said. She prodded a half-awake Sinistra, asking, "You hear anything about Malfoy?"

"Ummna," she mumbled, and Minerva chuckled, "Let the poor dear sleep."

"In any event, has anyone had suggestions regarding financing?"

"I spoke with Mr. Lacombe regarding his alumni suggestion," Filius said. "Apparently, the way it works, one particular project at a time is solicited, as a general appeal is not as successful. For instance, the hothouses we discussed. We put together a letter describing the need, asking for ten thousand galleons…"

"We would only need six," Minerva said.

Filius nodded. "Very true, however, a bit more gold in the capital improvements budget can't hurt, hmm?" Minerva grunted and nodded, Filius continuing, "We set up a special account with Gringott's, and on the letter to our alumni, simply have tick boxes for different amounts. One galleon, ten, fifty, and so forth, with a place for them to write an amount they wish to donate. This way, our recent graduates, who may be squeezed financially, can still donate a galleon or two, while leaving room for the larger donors. They simply fill in the amount and their vault number, and owl it off to Gringotts. In a month or so, we send out a very nice thank you letter, with a listing of donors, and perhaps a piccy or two of the hothouses, with our smiling faces."

"Very Slytherin-like, Filius. My compliments to Mr. Lacombe," Severus said. "While we do not wish to state the students are reduced to porridge three times a day, we can be one step away in implying it, due, of course, to Ministry bungling beyond our control. We deeply regret the necessity of soliciting funds, but see no other alternatives." He steepled his fingers, asking, "How well does this scheme work?"

"Very well, according to Peter," Filius smiled. "His mother works in the alumni department of a university in Canada. She warns against 'going to the well too often', though, and suggests only about every six to nine months. This gives the alumni time to forget how much they've donated. Another option we might consider is to have a sum automatically deducted. We can recognize them specially, and give them a plaque to hang on their wall, something suitable for muggles, of course."

"Interesting," the headmaster mused. "Pomona, will you draw up an appropriate letter with Poppy, and we'll discuss it at next week's meeting? Harry, I believe you mentioned you were going to Diagon Alley this weekend, would you meet with Gringott's regarding the account?" He nodded, and Albus cocked an eye. "Minerva, I believe your students had a suggestion?"

"They did, they suggested an outdoor carnival of sorts. From their description, I would suggest around the Easter hols, as they specifically mentioned a 'dunking booth'."

Harry chuckled, Minerva asking, "You know what they are?"

"Oh, yes," he glanced over at Lara, who was trying to suppress her mirth. "It's a tank of water that various persons are seated over. You pay a galleon, and have three chances to throw a small ball, like a baseball or cricket ball (he conjured them) at a target. If you hit the target, the person is dunked. They are most popular with figures of authority, like headmasters, faculty or heads of houses." He grinned, adding, "If we do this, I would suggest a weekend, and post a schedule of 'dunkee's'. That also means we cannot retaliate against students if they dunk us."

"We might want to add in the Quidditch teams to the roster," Lara said. "I'll volunteer to swim if the rest of you lot do too. You might want to have the teams operate the booth while their Head is dunked."

"For the school?" Severus mused. "If the headmaster is willing to sacrifice his dignity, I can do no less. I myself would be willing to pay more than a galleon to dunk Fudge."

"Umbridge," Hagrid rumbled; a dark look in his eye.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, October 13, 1999:  
London, Millius & Pewes Ltd. Solicitors, conference room: 08:07  
_**

* * *

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Malfoy," the solicitor said, pouring tea. "Especially after such shocking news about your husband, you must have been overcome with grief." 

"To some extent, but my feelings for Lucius were lost when he killed our son," Narcissa said, removing her black hat and veil to sip her tea.

"Ah," the solicitor said, uncomfortably. "In any case, the will stands as before. Since Draco has pre-deceased you, his share of the estate reverts." He slid a thin file across to her, "The estates and properties he has left you, with the values as of the close of business yesterday."

Narcissa silently perused the file, looking up, "These are all debit properties. Where are the income sources?"

The solicitor looked uncomfortable. "Those properties are under a separate account, willed to another party." Narcissa raised an eyebrow, the solicitor adding, "I regret I cannot disclose their identity. Mr. Malfoy left you a letter, to be read after you have left our offices." He slid a business card and envelope over, "I believe that concludes our business, Mrs. Malfoy. If you wish to retain our services, you will find our rates most reasonable."

"I would like to see a copy of Lucius' will."

"Unfortunately, it is sealed, by Ministry order," the solicitor said. He extracted a copy of the order from his file, "For your records, Mrs. Malfoy, no charge. If you wish to contest the order in court, you are welcome to do so, as I said, our rates are most reasonable." He stood, nodded politely, "Have a wonderful day," and left.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, October 13, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream: 08:57  
_**

* * *

Narcissa found herself, she didn't know how, sitting on Florean's patio. She was unaware she was observed by Peter Pettigrew as she sat, looking at the file, the thin envelope, and the solicitor's card. 

"Tea, ma'am?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, please," she shook herself as the waiter withdrew; placing her bag on the chair next to her, she opened the envelope.

_October 31, 1995_

_Narcissa,  
_'_Fidelus Verias'_

Narcissa shivered as the spell took effect. With an effort, she returned to the letter.

_There, that wasn't so bad, was it? That little phrase triggers a spell that binds you to my will, a spell that I cast on you years ago, when we, or should I say, **I** entered our Dark Lord's service. _

_If you are reading this, then that fool of a solicitor has followed my instructions, and conveyed title to various properties to you. He may have seemed nervous when meeting with you, if so, he had good reason. I have held his wife and daughter hostage to his good behaviour for fifteen years as I write this. You may ask how – a minor variant on the 'Tempus' spell has held them outside the flow of time. He is now reading a letter that your voice unlocked for him, detailing where and how he may rescue one of them. Sadly, he tried to betray me once; therefore his rescue of one will mean the silent death of the other as she suffocates in her tomb. _

_No matter, we are concerned with far greater things. You may be wondering how you can bow to my will (as a proper, obedient wife should), when I am dead. Fear not, dear Narcissa. Have you received my body for burial? I would be surprised if you have, that fool Fudge should know better. No, even if you have, it would be that of a worthless minion, not I. _

_Why am I writing this letter? If you are reading it, then that whelp Potter has somehow managed to defeat Our Lord in battle. It is therefore our duty, as I have pledged as head of the Malfoys, to assist in his glorious rebirth. Fear not, as a good husband, I have withheld my knowledge of your treachery from Our Lord, as I have withheld knowledge of Draco's activities in support of that fool Dumbledore. Draco will be reading his own letter now, do not bother to exchange them; they are charmed to appear blank to any but your own eyes. In addition, neither of you can discuss the content of your respective letters with the other, or indeed, with anyone. I would not try to return to the solicitor's office, you are the widow of someone who has just killed his wife or daughter. I doubt he would be inclined to help._

_You may wonder why I have selected those specific properties to will to you. Simple appearance, as it would look peculiar were you to receive naught. However, these are the most worthless of my properties, held for this occasion. You may not sell them to raise capital for five years from the date of my 'death'; else they revert to Ministry ownership. You may be assured that great idiot Fudge will be salivating for ownership; he will have free title to them. He has taken enough of my gold; he is a typical politician, worthless at anything else._

_If you to attempt to sell these properties, you will still owe the ruinous taxes on them. Why give them to you? I shall be contacting you shortly, at which time I will pay part of the overdue taxes on these, through transfer to your Gringott's account. At that time, you will obey my commands, or die on the streets of London in abject poverty. _

_Your husband,  
__Lucius_

_PS: This letter and its envelope will destroy themselves five seconds after you read this. _

Narcissa gave a startled cry as the letter and envelope she clutched in her hand burst into flame, the ashes blowing across Diagon Alley.

**_

* * *

Saturday, October 16, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley, Gringott's bank conference room: 10:08  
_**

* * *

"Good morning, Percy," Ginny said coolly as he was led in by two security goblins. 

"Ginny? Harry? Thank Merlin you're here! It's been horrible!"

"I do take offense at that, Mr. Weasley," Griplink said. "Your accommodations have been far more pleasant than suffered by my kinswoman, Miss Wayne during her stay in Azkaban." He leaned forward, showing his pointed teeth, "A visit YOU arranged, if I'm not mistaken."

The tall Minister of Education blanched as he processed that. He turned slightly, and saw a young girl in business robes (_expensive_ business robes!) sitting between the goblin and a very fit oriental woman. At the head of table sat Mackrack, the head of Gringott's, and therefore the head of the goblins. He swallowed, taking the single chair facing the others. Harry sat at Mackrack's right hand, Ginny to his right.

"I do apologize, sir. The quarters were sufficient." '_So this is the Wayne chit._' Percy thought, recalling the photograph in her skimpy dossier. "May I inquire? Your accommodations in Azkaban were inadequate?"

She grunted; piercing green eyes locked on him. "Yes, Minister Weasley, I would describe them as inadequate."

"My apologies, then," he said, dismissing the girl as he turned to regard Mackrack. "I presume that you will be releasing me with a full, public apology."

"Why should we do that?" the Wayne girl asked. "Why do you think you're here?"

"To receive the apology from Gringott's for their mistake in kidnapping a senior Minister, of course!"

To Percy's horror, Wayne, the Japanese woman and the goblins laughed. Even Harry and Ginny had smiles on their faces.

"Oh, my, that was good, Weasley!" the Japanese woman said. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. I'm Sheila Hawking, corporate counsel for Wayne Enterprises, and godmother to Mattie, here. No, we wanted to see what kind of fool would use stolen money to pay their bills. It's unusual."

Percy blinked. "Stolen money? Paying my bills? But I…"

"One other item of business," Sheila said, hoisting an aluminum briefcase to the table. She popped the latches, spinning the case around so Percy could see. "I have another ten thousand carats of diamonds. DeBeers seems to be paying more in Russia this week, so it might be best to go through your Moscow office."

"On account, of course?" Griplink had pulled a rather large diamond out, and was admiring the play of light across it. Percy was mesmerized; he'd never seen a gem the size of a goose egg…

"Your usual commission, of course," Sheila smiled warmly; then glanced at Percy, a cold expression dropping over her face. "Regarding Mr. Weasley, I recommend someplace a little less comfortable. Perhaps somewhat like Mattie's cell…"

"We unfortunately do not have anything quite that wet," Mackrack said. "We do have some _lovely_ cells near the dragons, though."

"_Under_ the dragons is more accurate, sir," Griplink said, replacing the diamond. "Why, Weasley, we'll even pay you a galleon a month to shovel out the dung for us. We'll apply it to your debt; you should have it paid off in no time!"

"Can we torture him a bit first? Pleeease?" Mattie whined. "I owe him, I really do!" Her eyes glittered malevolently, and Percy recalled, '_She's a Slytherin! Oh, Merlin!_'

"Even though he's a Ministry twit, he's still my brother," Ginny said, and Percy breathed a sigh of relief. "A galleon a week, and a shower once a month, please."

"Oh, all right, Mrs. Potter. It will cut into our profits, however," Mackrack said. He nodded at the guards, who had snickered silently at Percy the whole time. They advanced, pulling him to his feet as he scrabbled at the table. "Wait!"

"Whatever for?" Sheila asked coolly.

"I have information that you can use. I'm very close to Minister Fudge!"

"Why should we care? He's not important to us," Mackrack said. "Family and gold are what's important to us. You have no gold, and you're not kin."

"Ginny! Please! I'm begging you!"

"I've gone as far as I can, Percy. Anyone that would imprison children…" Ginny scowled at him, adding, "I've gotten you a shower, Percy. That's more than I should have done."

"Children? What do you mean? Wayne was Fudge's idea, not mine!"

"Prove it," Mattie said. "Have you a pensieve, Mr. Mackrack?"

"I think we can find one."

* * *

"It's interesting, but it doesn't change anything, Weasley," Sheila said. "Pity, I do hope you enjoy the smell of dragon dung." 

"WAIT!" Percy screeched, scrabbling at the table again. "What if I were to… to… spy for you? On the Ministry?"

"What makes you think we don't already have spies there?"

Percy blinked, asking, "Near the Minister? I'm a Vice-Minister, just below Minister Fudge. I have access to lots of information!"

"Hmm. Excuse us a moment, please," Sheila asked, as the others got up and huddled around her. Percy licked his lips as the guards snickered at him behind his back. Ginny looked up from the huddle, shooting a glare at him, before saying, "He's not worth the risk!" and diving back into the huddle.

* * *

"Weasley, I've been outvoted," Sheila told him. "Three to two to one, we accept your offer. You will be the loving brother who writes long letters to your sister; if you wish to encrypt something, you will use your copy of '5000 simply useful spells' as your key." 

Percy blinked, "How did you know about that book?"

"It's on your desk at work, twit," Ginny replied, adding, "I still think he would have been more useful with the dung."

"Err, who was the one?" Percy asked.

"Me," Mattie replied. "I was hoping I could have you for my very own … toy." She smiled sweetly, and Percy swallowed nervously. "Pity," she added.

"One other thing," Harry said. "Fudge will likely want a loyalty test from you," as he popped open a small case. "This is a standard wand, with one minor difference. If you try to AK someone, a small charm will trigger, giving a variation on the standard stunner instead of the Killing Curse. Same green light, same response, you can even cut off a finger to prove death if necessary."

"Save the finger, please, and when you portkey the body out, let me know," Ginny said. "'_Enervate_' won't work on this curse, but we know the counter-curse, and can re-attach the finger. The other two Unforgivables work just fine with this wand."

"How do I explain my release, though? It's been a few days."

"A little over two weeks, actually," Harry said. "Ginny sweet-talked me into covering your debt, as your loving sister."

"Mr. Griplink, please apply part of the proceeds from the diamonds to Mr. Weasley's debt, would you? I wouldn't want Gringott's to be out gold." Sheila looked over at Percy, adding, "I hope you're worth it."

* * *

After Percy left, Harry leaned forward, asking, "Think he bought it?" 

Sheila snorted, "Completely. I've had very few clients that were _that_ frightened." She nudged Mattie, adding, "You make a good 'Bad Cop'."

Mattie adjusted her Slytherin tie, "Being evil can be fun sometimes."

* * *


	9. Classes, Week Nine, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

9 – Classes, Week Nine, Second Year

* * *

**_Monday, October 25, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 07:00  
_**

* * *

"There you are, Weasley!" Minister Fudge asked, "Where have you been?" 

"The goblins held me on fraud charges. Apparently the wand and moneybag you passed on to me were reported stolen." Percy settled his robes, "Whose were they, anyway?"

"No one you need worry about," Fudge sipped his tea; asking, "You didn't tell them where you got it, did you?"

Insulted, Percy replied, "Of course not, Minister! I know where my loyalties lie!"

"Humph," Fudge said, "In any case, Edward here can bring you up to speed on your Ministry. Dolores here has a wonderful plan for additional funding."

Dolores Umbridge gazed warily at Percy; then said, "It's a very simple two part plan, a play on the public's fears. We simply pass a decree with the usual two line notice buried in the Prophet that all inmate property is now subject to confiscation. If the inmate tragically dies in our custody, their estate is now forfeit to the Ministry."

"What if the estate is probated?" Edward Hansen asked.

Umbridge dismissed that. "They will be _encouraged_ to sign full title over to the Ministry, or risk being charged with theft of government property. The law would supersede any existing liens on the property. Once we have it, we can then sell it, develop it, or whatever we wish. I believe this will give us a more stable, long-term source of funding."

Edward mulled this over, asking, "What's the second part?"

Umbridge smiled nastily, "Ah, this generates good publicity, which this Ministry can always use. Simply put, we already have a list of the subjects of this legislation, from the Dangerous Creatures office. We publicly urge our vampires and werewolves, for the sake of public safety, to report themselves to Ministry custody. Once there, we can charge and convict them of some minor crime, which allows us to confiscate their property. We can then hold them as long as necessary."

"There are some very young children that are werewolves," Percy said. "Some as young as five, and there are three at Hogwarts. Would this apply to them? I don't see how their property could make much difference."

"Of course it would! There can be no exceptions!" Fudge declared. "They can bite someone just as easily as an adult werewolf!"

"This is actually aimed at the vampires," Dolores said. "While there hasn't been a reported vampire bite in several years, they are all immensely wealthy. By making this a criminal statute, we can enforce it on overseas property. However, the werewolves, while poor, are more numerous, and better-known."

"We can make an example of Hogwarts, and that fool Dumbledore," Edward said. "Put those three werewolves in cages during a full moon; let the press and the public see what a danger they are. Once the plan is in place, the werewolves can be quietly killed off."

"Excellent idea!" Fudge said. "We'll set it up for next month. Take care of it, Edward. Now, Dolores, you had an idea for emptying out cells in Azkaban to house the werewolves…"

**_

* * *

Monday, October 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 09:00  
_**

* * *

The door slammed and locked on the tick of nine, the class falling silent. Arthur leaned over, asking Mattie in a whisper, "Where's Sprink?" 

"Full moon last night," she replied in a whisper.

"Mr. Morton. Miss Wayne. I believe that you are to be silent when the door closes, signaling the start of class," the Potion Master said from behind them. They jumped, and he added, "Two points from Hufflepuff, Mr. Morton, for speaking, and two more from Slytherin, Miss Wayne, for replying." He swept past, adding, "I am pleased you are concerned for a classmate, Mr. Morton, especially one from another house. You have, however, one hundred sixty two hours in a week when you are not in my class. You may gossip then."

"Git," Andrew muttered.

"Five points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher, Mr. Kirke. Not that it makes much difference at this point." He spun, robes flaring dramatically. "The burn healing paste is daubed on the site of the injury, however, should we wish that burn to remain open for other treatment, what would we use?" He paced; then said, "Mr. Kirke, you can make up a bit of Gryffindor's deficit with a correct answer."

"Um, to counter the puffer-fish eyes, you'd put in," Andrew licked his lips, "shrivelfig scales, one teaspoon per eye, and … (Mattie had her fingers crossed) a third of a porcupine quill to moderate that."

Professor Snape looked surprised. "Very good, Mr. Kirke, you have your five points back. Now, Miss Leeds, to build on Mr. Kirke's answer, the effects of bubotuber pus on the injury in conjunction with burn healing paste would be?"

Amanda cleared her throat, "The injury would remain open, sir."

"Very good, Miss Leeds," Professor Snape said, "Five points to Gryffindor. Mr. Kirke, tell us about those quills."

* * *

The study group crept in the Infirmary, and was intercepted by Narcissa. One of the twins asked, "How are they?" 

"All three are sleeping at the moment," she smiled fondly. "I'll tell them you stopped by. If you hurry, you can still get a bite to eat before afternoon classes."

**_

* * *

Monday, October 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 20:39  
_**

* * *

A screech owl flew in, landing on Ginny's writing table. She smiled, "Hello, Hermes, have you a letter for me?" The owl hooted, while Harry's owl Hedwig, clacked her beak disapprovingly. 

_25/10/1999_

_Dearest Ginevra, _

_I hope this letter finds you well. Today was my first day to return to work at the Ministry after our holiday. There are always so many things to do! Penelope sends her love, of course, and wishes that you and Harry might stop by upon your next visit to London. She is redecorating our flat, and…_

"Oy, Harry love, we have a letter from Percy!" Ginny said, and Harry got up from the computer where he had been marking essays, stroking the owls' heads on the way. Picking up a few sheets of blank parchment, he passed them to his wife as she pulled her wand from her hair plait.

"What code did you work out with Percy?" Harry asked, joining her at the table.

"The date's underlined, which means there's something else he wrote," she said. "I'm glad you mentioned this way of coding, decryption charms can break just about anything."

"Muggle upbringing, with 007 and Her Majesty's Secret Service," he smirked. "It's known as a 'one time pad', and is supposed to be unbreakable without the key." He shrugged, "If it's good enough for MI-6 and the American CIA…"

Ginny tapped her wand on the letter, revealing pages of gibberish. She copied the gibberish onto fresh parchment, then set Percy's letter aside to summon a book. "Page 1999, paragraph ten, and letter twenty-five…" she mumbled. Looking up, she mentioned, "This will take a while. I'll give you a shout, love."

* * *

"Oh, my," Ginny breathed. "What do we do?" She passed the scribbled sheets to her husband. 

"This affects our friends and students," he mused. "Let me transcribe it into the computer, so the syntax won't reveal Percy while you burn your notes." He rubbed his chin, asking, "What say you to a midweek dinner party, a casual affair?" Ginny nodded, adding, "Perhaps Remus can pop by sometime this week?"

**_

* * *

Wednesday, October 27, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff room: 08:39  
_**

* * *

"If there is nothing else?" Albus asked, levitating the tea set about. 

"Just a personal note," Harry said. "Ginny and I were planning a small party tonight at eight; we're inviting all of you." He glanced down the table, adding, "That includes you, Argus."

Sinistra covered her mouth and yawned, "Sorry, Harry. Got my fifth years tonight, can I get a raincheque?"

"Stop by for a drink at least, Ginny had something to ask you," Harry grinned, adding "Some sort of 'girl thing', she wouldn't tell me."

"We can't tell you poor males, what would be the fun in that?" Lara smirked. "I'll be there tonight, Harry. Should we bring anything?"

"Dobby is handling the refreshments, so you don't need to worry about Fred and George," Harry said.

"Unfortunately, I cannot attend," Severus said.

"Pity, Severus. I hope you can find the time," Albus said, "It sounds like a wonderful evening, Harry. I look forward to it."

"If I may have five minutes, Severus, I would appreciate it," Harry said, and the Potion Master nodded.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, October 27, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 18:39  
_**

* * *

Professor Sinistra knocked on the Potter's door, Harry inviting her in. Offering her tea, Harry said, "I'm sorry, but I needed a ruse. We received information from our spies in the Ministry that will affect our students and our friends." 

Ginny entered, putting up her hair, adding, "The Ministry is planning to confiscate property, but it's also planning on jailing and killing off vampires and werewolves, including some of our students. You mentioned once you had a cousin?"

"Yes, my first cousin is a vampire in Bucharest," Sinistra said. "What do you have?"

Harry stepped to his computer, and the printer hummed, "For security, I've paraphrased the original reports into this summary. That's the real reason for the party tonight, and why I wanted at least one Slytherin professor."

"Miss Tonks," Sinistra breathed, looking over the information.

Harry nodded, "Miss Tonks."

* * *

"Severus!" Filius called, "Do join us!" 

The tall Potions Master inclined his head, accepting a glass of wine from Ginny. He sniffed the bouquet, then glanced at his hostess; murmuring, "Loire Riesling, 1955. I do confess, Ginevra, I am surprised."

She smiled enigmatically, then tapped her wineglass, "If I might have everyone's attention, our spies in the Ministry have informed us of a new problem …"

**_

* * *

Thursday, October 28, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 09:05  
_**

* * *

"Cornelius, I'm concerned about Weasley," Dolores said. 

"How so?" he asked.

"He seemed to brush off his two weeks with the goblins," she said. "I'm concerned that someone may have gotten to him. It's not like Potter to casually pay out almost half a million galleons to someone who's on the outs with his family, especially a family like the Weasleys."

"Hmm," the Minister said. "Arrange whatever loyalty test you want for Weasley, Dolores. However, if he passes, that is the end of it."

**_

* * *

Friday, October 29, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin potions lab: 14:09  
_**

* * *

"Right-o, mate, you saw the tests with the rats. You watched us blind them Wednesday afternoon; then they got a dose of potion," Sprink said. "Snape's signed off on our brewing, and you watched the rats run the maze after. It's time, mate." 

"They did kind of wobble a bit at first," Arthur said. "One ran into a wall in the maze."

"A slight period of disorientation," Mattie quoted from their manual, adding, "The monkshood will do that, and we couldn't give the rats a chair."

"True," Arthur admitted. "The antigen's ready?" Sprink waved the small bottle of white potion, and he took a seat. "Let's do this before I lose my nerve."

"'Kay, here we go…" Mattie passed him a goblet of honey-gold potion, Arthur toasting them before draining it. "Bleargh, doesn't taste very good," he said, a shaking hand dropping the goblet to the table. He spat air, adding, "Better than the werewolf stuff, though."

"Too right, mate," Sprink added as Arthur fumbled with his tie, which Mattie loosened for him. "Thanks," he mumbled, then said, "Yeow! My eyes hurt!"

Sprink dipped a rag in cold water, placing it over his eyes. Arthur stopped panting after a minute, took a final deep breath; and then removed the rag. He removed his glasses from his shirt pocket, then wincing, "I wore those?"

"Feeling better?" Mattie asked, and Arthur nodded. "Testing time!" Sprink chirped, and dashed about fifteen feet across the lab, opening a book at a random place. "She borrowed that from Narcissa," Mattie said, "It's got the finest type we could find."

"'Kay, it's a book on human anatomy, dealing with the pelvic region of the human female." Arthur blushed, "I won't read all of it, but it says the transverse pelvic gap in the female averages four and three-quarter inches (1)." Mattie waved Sprink in, as Arthur added quietly, "Um, I think I inherited something from your Uncle Clark. I can see Sprink's underwear."

"What, through my blouse?" Sprink asked, having removed her school jumper and robes.

"Er, no, through your body. Your bra tag reads (he whispered)…32A?"

Sprink eeped, and pulled her jumper back on, and Mattie looked skeptical, while pulling her robes tighter, "No way. What color are mine?"

Arthur leaned forward, and whispered, "Pink, and frilly. Very frilly." He gulped, backing away from Mattie's darkening expression, and groped for the antigen.

"Wait," Sprink said. "Professor Snape's in class. We need confirmation Arthur's sight is, um, improved. Let's go see Aunt Narcissa; otherwise we won't get credit for the potion."

"It's 'Dusty Rose', not 'pink', and you, mister, will keep your eyes front at all times," Mattie ordered.

"Hey, four sisters, remember?"

* * *

Narcissa smiled at her niece; asking, "What can I do for you three?" 

"Err, Aunt Narcissa, you remember our potion? Eye improvement for Arthur here?"

"It didn't work? Is that why he's blindfolded?"

"No, he can read your book across the room, but he can also, um, see through things."

Narcissa raised her eyebrow. "What is Madame Pomfrey doing now?"

"She's on the computer, with a bunch of folders around her. It looks like she was updating things, and took a quick Solitaire break," Arthur said. "She needs to play the red ten on the black jack." He turned; then said, "Professor Flitwick is wearing a blue sweater with a crest in gold under his robes." He found a scrap of parchment, scribbling a number. "That's how much cash he's got on him, and (he scribbled again) the second figure's how much cash you've got, Ms. Black."

"Miss Tonks, go ask Professor Flitwick how much cash he's got on him at the moment. Sprink turned to go, Arthur calling, "Don't forget the knut in his pant cuff!"

**_

* * *

Friday, October 29, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 16:49  
_**

* * *

The two DMLE thugs pushed Arthur Weasley into the Minister's office, where a sobbing Molly rushed to hug him. He comforted her, asking, "Minister, what's this about? Why is my wife here? I was told my presence was (he glared at the thugs), desired." 

"In a moment, Weasley, all will be revealed," Percy entered the room, followed by a smirking Dolores Umbridge.

She dismissed the guards, telling Percy, "I'm not sure you're fully with us, Weasley. This is a loyalty test, so I want you to cast Cruciatus on your parents."

"What? Cast an Unforgivable?" Percy spluttered, while Molly advanced on Umbridge, who casually waved her wand, '_Petrificus Totalus_'. Both parents thumped to the floor, frozen stiff and silent, where they glared at Umbridge.

"You're either with us, or against us, Weasley," Umbridge said. "Choose."

"You really thought I'd work against you, Minister?" Percy asked, insulted. He waved his wand, saying '_Crucio_', and Arthur Weasley stiffened in agony.

"I don't hear any screaming," Dolores said, and Percy snorted. Flicking his wand at Dolores, he repeated, '_Crucio_', over her screams, he added, "They can't speak with the full body bind, Minister Umbridge. You scream prettily enough."

"Enough!" Fudge called. Percy lifted his wand, and Fudge said, "Good. One more thing, Weasley. Kill one of them. One of your parents."

"K… kill?"

"Yes, Weasley," Fudge said. "Kill one of your parents, or we won't know if we can trust you. Within the next minute, or I'll kill you, followed by your parents. You know Edward is eager to take your place…"

"Yes…" Percy said. He mumbled a quick prayer, then pointed his wand, "'_Avada Kedavra_'" and a green light flashed.

**_

* * *

Friday, October 29, 1999:  
London, Weasley flat: 17:39  
_**

* * *

"Percy! You look horrible," Penelope said as he stepped through the floo. 

"I feel horrible," Percy told his wife. He crossed to the sideboard, and opened a bottle of Ogden's old Firewhiskey. Drinking from the bottle, he fumbled in his pocket, extracting a small matchbox and expanding it to a coffin. Corking the bottle, he stumbled to the bedroom, as his wife looked on in horror.

He returned to the living room, opening the coffin and putting a pendant around the neck of the corpse. "I dropped Father off at the twin's shop. I'll be at Hogwarts."

"Percy, is that…"

He nodded, saying just before he touched the portkey, "Yes, Penelope. Today, I had to kill my mother."

* * *

(1) Gray's anatomy, pg. 181. 


	10. Classes, Week Ten, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

10 – Classes, Week Ten, Second Year

* * *

**_Sunday, October 31, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff table: 07:40  
_**

* * *

One of the twins whistled with her fingers as Arthur limped up to join the study group. "Nice shades, Morton! Very stylish!" 

He sighed, "So far you guys are the only ones that aren't treating me like a leper. The girls hex me if I even look in their direction, the guys nail me because I won't tell them what I see." He shuddered, adding, "Thanks for giving me that email address, Mattie. I don't know how much use it will be, though. He's out of town." He passed over a folded piece of paper.

_Date: 30 Oct. 1999  
__To: Arthur Morton (Hogwarts)  
__From: Lois Lane (Home)  
__Re: Eyes _

_Arthur: _

_I'll ask Clark to stop by when he gets back from his out of town business trip. The earliest I expect him is the middle of next month, but you know how fouled up travel plans can get. _

_You can also tell Mattie that either Jennie or John will be by to help her with her new bit of jewelry. _

_I'll write when I know more,  
__Lois _

_29 Oct. 1999  
__To: Clark Kent (encrypted)  
__From: Mattie Wayne  
__Subj__: Eyes_

_Uncle Clark: _

_Our potion worked! Well, mostly. At least we got credit for it. _

_Arthur (our test subject) seems to have developed the ability to see through things (we haven't tested lead yet). However, he seems to be distressed by this (personally, I think it would be kinda cool!). Do you think you could stop by and help him out a bit before he really flips out and starts creating even weirder spells?_

_Mattie_

_PS: His email is amorton AT Hogwarts… yada, yada. grin  
__PPS: I shaved another 15 seconds off my best five mile time! Yay me!_

Mattie returned the sheet to Arthur, and shrugged. "Travel problems, what are you gonna do?"

**_

* * *

Sunday, October 31, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin first year girl's dormitory: 10:07  
_**

* * *

Severus entered the room, black robes billowing, a bubbling flask in his hand. Filius Flitwick ignored him, chanting over the floating corpse of Molly Weasley. He stopped, Minerva McGonagall smoothly taking over the chant. The Potion Master held up the flask; Ginny nodded, sitting on a bed next to Percy, eyes riveted on the floating corpse of their mother. 

Harry nodded at the door to the loo, Severus following him and closing the door, "How are they?"

"Ginny's eaten half a sandwich, nothing for Percy," Harry sighed. "Neither one of them has gotten a wink of sleep, even when Albus and I traded off. I've also had to hold off a horde of pissed-off Weasleys." He scrubbed his face, "I hope this charm works."

"Filius is the one that suggested it…" Severus started to say, when a cry came from the other room. They both ran, Severus wrenching open the door and holding back Percy, while Harry forcibly restrained Ginny.

"She moved… She _moved_…" Percy babbled, while Ginny sobbed into Harry's shoulder.

"She must drink the potion, or she will stop moving forever," Severus snapped, as Filius uncorked the flask while Minerva continued to chant. After a minute, Molly coughed and wheezed, before trying to sit up. Minerva helped her to a four-poster, while Severus and Harry relaxed their hold. Minerva made Molly comfortable; then waved them over. Ginny attached herself to Molly's neck, sobbing in relief, while Percy dithered.

"What…" Molly coughed; then looked at Percy. "You! How dare you, casting Cruciatus on your poor father!" She started to struggle out of bed, when Harry swung, breaking Percy's jaw. As Percy got up from the floor, Molly continued, "Casting _Avada_ on me! Why, when I …" she stopped, blinked, then asked, "Why aren't I dead?"

"A charm on his wand to convert the AK into something else," Filius said. "Took me a year and a half of research," he added, before motioning to Percy. "We'll need to replace your wand, Mr. Weasley. That was a one-use charm, the next AK you cast _will_ be lethal."

Minerva had healed his jaw, leaving the bruise. "Protective colouration, Mr. Weasley, I do not envy you the upcoming confrontation with your brothers."

"Harry and I will keep them from hurting you _too_ severely, Percy," Ginny said. "We'll tell them what's going on; then we'll have to obliviate them. Can't have them acting out of character at the funeral."

"Funeral?"

Severus smirked, "Yes, Molly, you get to attend your own funeral, without actually becoming a ghost."

**_

* * *

Sunday, October 31, 1999:  
Hogsmeade, Weasley's Wizarding Wheeze, back room: 12:10  
_**

* * *

"There he is!" Ron shouted, and six redheaded men (one balding) advanced on Percy. Ginny stepped in front, Harry beside her as wands were raised. 

"Stand aside you two," Charlie said calmly. "We have business with Percy."

"After I've said what I need to say," Ginny said. "Mum's alive!"

"There's a counter for _Avada_?" Arthur said in disbelief. "I _saw_ Percy cast the AK! I _saw_ the green light! I _saw_ your mother die!"

"What you saw was a special wand we gave Percy," Harry said. "That was a modified stunner. Percy is spying for us; we thought he might need to go through a loyalty test. Molly is resting comfortably in the Slytherin dorms."

"Slytherin…" Ron sneered.

Ginny whirled on him, "Yes, _Slytherin_, Ron! They helped save your mum's life; can't you get that hatred out of your mind? Honestly!"

One of the twins said, "Ron, you've worked with Ian, he's an all right bloke, and Blaise is a good mate. Why are you still on this anti-Slytherin bit? Quidditch is one thing, but…" The other twin asked, "When can we see mum?"

"At the funeral, and you're going to have to be authentic, or you'll blow Percy's cover. You'll have to plan the funeral, Minerva's transfiguring a pig or something for the coffin," Harry said, adding, "Maybe we should obliviate them all."

"One prat in particular," Ginny said, shooting a dark glare at Ron. "The rest of this lot can be trusted. Dad, we'll try to sneak you in to see Mum."

"During the Quidditch game Saturday," Bill suggested. "There will be parents and alumni there, Ginny can sneak him in. Still," he looked at Percy, "He still should be roughed up a bit. No one would believe he got away from us with only one bruise."

"I'll take care of it," Ron said, cracking his knuckles. Percy swallowed and nodded.

**_

* * *

Monday, November 1, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister of Education's office: 07:50  
_**

* * *

"Problems, Weasley?" 

"That's _Minister_ Weasley to you, Hansen, and don't you forget it!" Percy snapped. "It was difficult to AK my mother, but it would be pure pleasure to kill you. Now, unless you have a way to make payroll this month, I want to see your backside through that door." He stood, wand in hand, "Is that clear?"

"Y…yes, sir!"

Percy sighed, and left his office, telling the secretary, "I'm going to see the Minister."

* * *

"Not a problem, Weasley," Fudge said. "I'll just have Dolores close down some un-necessary offices; we can transfer fifty or sixty thousand galleons into your accounts." 

"That's, err, half-pay, Minister," Percy objected.

"Better half-pay with a job than no pay at all, eh, Weasley? You'll just have to trim some of the fat out of your personnel budget, like that useless Divination professor. They can always find another job," Fudge said, grinning at Percy.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 2, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley, Weasley Wizard Wheezes: 07:10  
_**

* * *

Ron looked up at the door opening, and was shocked to see his father. "Dad! What are you doing here?" 

"I tried to go in to work," Arthur said dully. "Fudge closed our office, saving funds, he said. I couldn't stay someplace without… without… your mum." Ron rushed to support him, helping him into the back room.

Fred looked up from the books; then rushed to help his father take a seat on the ratty couch. Sipping tea that Ron fetched, Arthur told his story, ending, "Poor Perkins. Only a few months from retirement, and he's laid off. Whatever will he do?" He blinked, asking, "What will I do now?"

Fred looked at Ron, saying, "Tonight, you're staying here with us. Ron, get back out front, George should be back soon. I'll floo to the Burrow, and pack a bag for you, Dad."

Arthur raised a hand, "You can't. Fudge shut down the floo office as a …"

"…cost-saving measure," Ron said. "I wondered why we hadn't had anyone come through the fires this morning." He blinked, then asked, "What about people that can't apparate?" Arthur shrugged.

"You're all done in, Dad," Fred said. He got up, rooting about; giving his father a small vial. "Dreamless sleep; Hermione brewed it. We'll put our heads together, decide what to do." He helped his father lie on the couch, fluffing a pillow and covering him with a brilliant orange Chudley Cannons blanket. Motioning his younger brother out front, Fred said, "Fudge is really starting to piss me off."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 2, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley, Weasley Wizard Wheezes: 07:30  
_**

* * *

An owl fluttered in, and George untied the note: 

_2 November, 1999_

_Keep Father out of sight! It's suicidal for him to wander about Diagon Alley, much less the bloody Ministry! He's officially dead; I've modified Fudge and Umbridge's memory so they'll remember my killing him when he attacked Fudge in his grief. That means you'll have to plan a dual funeral. I'll send an arrangement of flowers, but I won't 'dare' attend myself. Have Ron do something suitably dramatic to the flowers, and please don't be too mean to Penelope. I don't want to know where they are, keep things as restricted as possible!_

_Mother and Father's official death certificates are attached. This note will destroy itself in ten seconds, please separate it. _

_P._

George pulled the note off and watched it burn.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin table: 08:10  
_**

* * *

"Post's here!" 

Lee glanced at the Head Table as owls with Ministry medallions landed, offering envelopes to the faculty. She returned to her breakfast, glancing over her History text. A scream of rage came from the head table, Professor Croft standing, fists clenched and glaring at her letter. Professor McGonagall stood, shaking her letter, then saying, "Albus! What do you…"

The headmaster stood; the focus of attention in the hall, "I knew nothing about this. I suggest we repair to the staff room, we can discuss this in private."

"Fine!" Callista Vector spat, throwing her napkin on her half-eaten grapefruit and stalking out of the hall while students murmured.

* * *

"Now, as I was saying…" Albus started, but was interrupted by Sybill Trelawney, who stormed into the staff room, shawls fluttering, waving a letter, "Albus! I just received…" 

"Several of us did, Sybill," Minerva said. "Do sit down; Albus was just getting to _his_ letter."

"Thank you, Minerva," the Headmaster said. He cleared his throat, "First of all, despite what any individual letters might say, I want you all to continue on as normal. No one will be leaving; there will be no change to our class schedules. However, we are now in more desperate need of funding."

Harry cleared his throat, "If anyone is in desperate financial straights, please see me, I'll do what I can to help."

"Thank you, Harry," Minerva said. "This is such a ridiculous letter…" She cleared her throat and read:

_1 November, 1999 _

_Dear Miss McGonagall, _

_In view of the similarity of your position, and with Mr. Flitwick's greater tenure, your classes will be merged with his, effective immediately. The Ministry wishes you the best in your search for employment, and desires you to vacate your Hogwarts quarters by Friday, 5 November, 1999. _

_Signed,  
Percival Weasley  
Minister of Education_

She looked about the staff room, asking, "Who else was sacked?"

Professors Vector and Croft raised their hands, as did Argus Filch and Harry Potter. Lara looked down the table, asking, "They sacked _you_, Harry?"

"Apparently, with Voldemort gone, and no other 'magical threats' apparent, they have decided self defense isn't needed. That's what DMLE is for, after all," he snorted.

"I'm tae take o' fer Argus, meself," Hagrid said. "Tha' Ministry 'as said I cann'ae teach any inter'sting creatures, jus' nifflers an' flobberworms an' the like." He sniffled, "I was gaen'tae get Charlie tae bring summat dragons fer my third-year class tae pet."

"The Ministry has decided that addition and subtraction is all the mathematical knowledge required," Callista Vector added.

"Professor Binns is capable of teaching Ancient Runes," Lara Croft said. "It is a branch of history, after all."

"As I said, I do not wish any changes," Albus said, "I am sure we will get this all sorted. For now, I think it best we get to class, and we do not discuss this with the students."

_**

* * *

Tuesday, November 2, 1999:  
Hogwarts, second floor corridor: 09:02  
**

* * *

_"Ah, there you are, Miss Wayne. I do apologize for my tardiness," the Headmaster said. "_Puking Pastilles_," he informed the statue, which obediently rotated open. He gestured, and as they rode up the circular stair together, he added, "I am afraid I must ask you to elucidate on your funding idea." 

"That's what the Ministry letters were?" Mattie asked. "Pink slips?" The headmaster blinked, so she rephrased, "Job terminations?"

"Yes, I must ask you to keep that under your hat, Miss Wayne." He opened the door for her, waving up a tea set as they both took their respective squashy armchairs.

"You may know I'm the owner of the Ballycastle Bats," she started, and Albus waved his teacup, "I had wondered about the bats. Please continue." Mattie nodded, "The current stadium is in need of remodeling. I was thinking we could lease the Quidditch stadium for our home games while the work was being done. We could work out a split of the gate, plus whatever concessions are sold. Also, the WWN announcers would need to be negotiated between Hogwarts, the Bats, and the Wheeze."

"Most interesting…" the Headmaster mused. "I will bring this up at tomorrow's staff meeting."

"I need an answer fairly quickly," Mattie said. "I apologize for not bringing this up earlier, but you had indicated there was no immediate need. I was thinking a meeting Friday afternoon, with the Bats' staff staying over for our game with Gryffindor." She grinned, adding, "It can't hurt to scout for new talent."

"True, true," Albus said, drumming his fingers. "Let me confirm this, but I am agreeable to meeting Friday at one in the staff room."

"I'll send an owl after we finish, but remember, this will be a business meeting," Mattie warned, "We'll be competitors, friendly, but still competitors, Mr. Dumbledore."

_**

* * *

Wednesday, November 3, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff room: 08:20  
**

* * *

_"Well, on to new business," Albus said. "It seems our Miss Wayne is the owner of the Ballycastle Bats Quidditch team, and they are looking for temporary quarters." 

Severus snorted, "You didn't know that? She's been getting bats from the beginning of term."

"In any case, I will be meeting with her Friday at one here to negotiate an agreement." He smiled, "I believe our financial worries are over, although I did confirm her speculation about yesterday's letters."

Severus traded looks with Callista Vector. Pursing his lips, he said slowly, "While I am desirous of a successful negotiation, I would warn you to tread carefully, Headmaster. The Waynes are not a clan to toy with; any of them. Please make certain Callista is with you. You will need a Slytherin to negotiate with another Slytherin."

Minerva snorted, "We are negotiating with a very wealthy eleven year old girl, Severus. How difficult can it be?"

"You have no idea."

_**

* * *

Friday, November 5, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 12:40  
**

* * *

_"Oh, that's Michael Islington!" Karen said. "He's the star Seeker for the Bats! What's he doing here?" 

"Scouting for new talent?" Mattie said calmly. "C'mon, Sprink, I gotta change. I've got a business meeting at one."

"Business meeting?" Karen asked, but Mattie was already out the door.

* * *

Mattie stopped at the door to the staff room, "Mr. Dumbledore, there is a charm preventing me from entering." 

Minerva smiled, "That's to keep students out, Miss Wayne."

"I see," Mattie waited, but Minerva returned to shuffling her paperwork. Mattie cleared her throat, asking, "Miss McGonagall? The charm?" Both Albus and Minerva ignored her.

Mattie frowned; drew her wand, and stepped to the side, casting '_Stan Dividere_'. As the wall crumbled into slivers, it left the partially open door standing in its frame. Picking up a flake of stone as she picked her way across, she tossed it on the battered table as she took her seat. "There are a few gems in Professor Binn's class. That's a nifty little fifth-century spell designed to break a cliff into arrowheads. I do apologize about the damage, Miss McGonagall; I wouldn't want to put Mr. Filch to any bother. I'll repair it later."

McGonagall closed her jaw with a click, "Miss Wayne..."

Mattie pointed her wand at the destroyed wall, casting '_Obscurus Transpare_'. She added, "Mr. Potter did mention this room was a bit dim, that should help. Now that we are all here, let me introduce everyone. Representing Hogwarts, we have Mr. Dumbledore and Miss McGonagall. Mr. Fred Weasley is representing Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, the sponsor of the broadcasts. Ms. King represents the Wizarding Wireless Network. With the Bats, Mr. Islington is the player representative, I am the owner, Mr. Griplink is my financial adviser, and Ms. Hawking is my legal adviser." She steepled her hands, "Shall we begin?"

* * *

As the negotiations continued, Albus and Minerva, seated at the head of the table, couldn't ignore the students passing by, slowing to gawk as the meeting dragged on. The Ballycastle team, on the other hand, ignored them as they negotiated point after point. When the bell rang (silent in the meeting), signaling the end of afternoon classes, it took the forbidding presence of Professor Snape to disperse the crowd. He glanced in, shook his head, and entered the Great Hall for dinner.

* * *

"I think this is a workable start," Mattie said, and Minerva groaned. "In any case, I have an appointment, and it is starting to get late. Shall we initial our agreement to this draft, and continue our negotiations after tomorrow's game?" 

"It has been a few years since I commented a Quidditch game at Hogwarts," Janice King said as she jotted her initials. "I'm looking forward to tomorrow's game."

"I'll wish best of luck to Slytherin tomorrow," Fred said as the agreement came around to him, "But I'll always support Gryffindor."

"I'll return best wishes to Gryffindor, but I'm confident Slytherin will stomp them flat," Mattie said as she initialed. "Small wager, Mr. Weasley? A galleon?"

"Done!" They both passed a galleon to Ms. King, Mattie standing and dispersing the privacy spell. With a quick '_reparo_', the wall was restored, with the exception of the flake of stone. Mattie smiled, "Now, if you will excuse me?" She strolled out of the room, then ran for the dungeons once she was out of sight.

* * *

"Ahh," Mattie said, as Sprink washed her hands. "Elementary business negotiation – who can survive a full bladder longer," She flushed, emerging from the stall, and washed her hands. 

Sprink checked her watch, "We've got ten minutes to get to class, mate. We've got to run!"

* * *

"Glad you could join us, Miss Wayne," Professor Sinistra said. "What was the meeting about?" 

"I'm sorry, Professor, but this was the preliminary meeting, and it's confidential. I hope we can finalize things after the game tomorrow." Mattie grinned, adding, "Then we're really going to have to get tough in the negotiations."

"Eight hours isn't tough?" Sprink muttered, and Mattie grinned, "Swim with the sharks, baby."

_**

* * *

Saturday, November 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Front hall: 08:10  
**

* * *

_The crowd was beginning to thin out when Ginny spotted the hunched figure in the worn cloak. "Dad?" she whispered, and he grasped her hand fiercely. "Come on, I'll take you to Mum," she said as she led the way to the Slytherin dorms. **_

* * *

Saturday, November 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch pitch, Commentator's booth: 08:30_**

* * *

"Welcome back to Hogwarts for another exciting Quidditch season! As always, I'm Lee Jordan for Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, we're sponsoring today's broadcast on WWN. For the season opener between Gryffindor and Slytherin today, we are honored to have in the announcing booth not only the captains of the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw teams, but my counterpart, Janice King, the voice of the Ballycastle Bats. Hello, ladies." 

"Good morning, Lee! As you were so kind to point out, I normally broadcast for the Bats, but I happened to be in the neighborhood today, and I'm always up for a good game of Quidditch. This place does remind me of my own school days. I was a Ravenclaw, you know."

"You'll have to meet the team, then Janice! I think you can still find the tower, although the password has changed," Orla said. Everyone chuckled, "I'd like to introduce my colleague, Abby Michaels, Captain of the Hufflepuff team that we're planning on flattening next month."

"In your dreams; Orla!" Abby said. "The Slytherins have another strong lineup this year, while the Gryffindors lost half their team, including their Captain, to graduation. The Snake's Den continues to make good use of their first and second year students, including Mattie Wayne, their star seeker and holder of the record for Hogwart's fastest catch of a Snitch."

Orla nodded, "Slytherin's lineup includes Sprink Tonks, who played Chaser last year for Slytherin, and made the move to Beater this year to cover the loss to graduation of Ian MacDonald. Covering the open Chaser position for the Snakes is first year Canadian Jeremy Pellew, who is up against his sister Vi, who is a first year Chaser for the Lions."

"I'd just like to mention that Ian's a great bloke, and a colleague of mine at the newest branch of the Wheeze, just down the road here in Hogsmeade," Lee said. "Since there seems to be something wrong with the floo network lately, I won't give the address, but we do support owl orders at either our Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley locations." Lee cleared his throat, "I see referee Harry Potter is levitating the chest of balls out to the pitch. We'll be introducing… here they are! For Gryffindor, we have Clausen, Johnson, Johnson, Leeds, Pellew, Spencer aaand Wilson!"

Janice took over, "For Slytherin, we have Bundy, Dorney, Dorney, MacDonald, Pellew, Tonks aaand Wayne!"

Orla said, "I wonder if Gryffindor's solved the puzzle of Slytherin's Ballistic attack yet. Speaking as a keeper, it's a bloody hard thing to defend against."

"I've heard of that, and I'm looking forward to seeing it for myself." Janice said, "It's such a radical change of Slytherin's tactics from a few years ago. Before, it was a 'bull on through' style of play, but now I'm looking to see more of the Den's legendary finesse and cunning from years ago."

"You're about to see it, Janice!" Lee said. "The Quaffle is tossed, and… it's caught by Violet Pellew for the Lions! She's heading for the goal, but is quickly enveloped by the three Slytherin Chasers in a beautiful movement. She's trying to pass to Leeds, but it's intercepted by her brother! There you have it, Janice, the opening formation of the infamous Slytherin Ballistic!"

"That is _such_ a smoothly executed maneuver, folks, it's incredible to see," Janice said. "They're spread out across the width of the goals, corkscrewing, rotating and boring in on Harry Spencer, the Gryffindor Keeper. They're doing behind-the-back passing; Spencer doesn't know who has the Quaffle, or which goal they're going to strike. They're just outside the scoring area, barely avoiding a stooging penalty, and SCORE! Firstie Jeremy Pellew, the first goal of his career and of the season, through the left-hand goal! It's ten-nothing Slytherin!"

* * *

"One hundred ten minutes into the game," Lee said, "Wayne continues her spherical orbit of the Snitch, preventing third-year Gryffindor seeker Wilson from snatching it." 

"Even if she let Wilson have it, the outcome wouldn't change," Orla said. "Gryffindor has been flattened in this game."

"I wouldn't call it flattened, more like humiliated," Abby said. "Did they even show up for practice? With a score of two hundred to ten, I expect the Lions to be hiding in their common room."

"I am, reluctantly, forced to agree," Lee said. "As a Gryffindor alumnus, I can imagine what Professor McGonagall is going to say. Professor, want to make a comment?"

"Not in public, Mr. Jordan," Minerva said from behind them. "Not in public."

"A new wrinkle in the Slytherin Ballistic," Abby said. "I'd call this more of a fleur-de-lis pattern in their evasion, wouldn't you, Orla?"

"They do go vertically; then curve in, all while passing smoothly," Orla commented. "SCORE! Two hundred ten for Slytherin, ten for Gryffindor, and Wayne finally reaches over to grab the Snitch, giving a final score of three hundred sixty to ten, Slytherin, in a game lasting one hundred eighteen minutes!"

"That's the game from Hogwarts; I'm Janice King for the WWN, with the final score a humiliation of Gryffindor by Slytherin, three hundred sixty to ten!"

_**

* * *

Saturday, November 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin girls' dorms: 11:05  
**

* * *

_The Slytherins burst into their common room, whooping and celebrating. Ginny looked up the circular staircase from where she sat outside the first-year dorm. She clicked off the small radio, and sighed, then looked up at the thunder of feet, saying, "Hello, Karen. Good game." 

Karen Bundy grinned, "I'd love to see what McGonagall is saying to the Gryffie team." She nodded at the door, asking, "What's going on?"

"Nothing I can talk about, but Professor Snape knows about it," Ginny said. She grinned, asking, "What's Snape like when you guys lose? Anything like class?"

"Icy," Karen admitted. "You can feel your bones freeze, and he has that menacing, hissing whisper. What about McGonagall?"

"She develops this really thick burr, you half expect her to start waving a broadsword about." Ginny lifted the school tie on the doorknob, asking, "Anyone got a spare? A Gryff tie looks out of place."

"I've got a spare one, my sister used to chew on the narrow end," Sprink said. "It's a nervous habit of hers. P'fessor Snape caught me wearing it once and insisted I buy new."

"Thanks," Ginny said, adding, "Word of warning for you and your two fellow 'wolves. Don't go anywhere alone. Anywhere – the loo, the library, class, and especially Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley. Stay with your mates, and talk to the Slythie professors, but for now, beware the Ministry."

Mattie traded looks with the other girls, "You've got yourself a bodyguard, mate. Thanks, Ginny."

_**

* * *

Saturday, November 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 11:45  
**

* * *

_"'_Obscurus Aqua_'," Mattie said; looking at the three other people. "Before we go back in to the meeting, anything to discuss?" 

"Yes," Sheila said. "Feeling better after your attack of pique?"

"Hogwarts needs this contract," Griplink said. "We know it, they know it. Just because they belittled you yesterday does not mean you must drive them to bankruptcy, as that is what they are facing." He steepled his long fingers, adding, "We learned long ago in the banking business that while it is certainly possible to extract every knut from a client, it is better to forgo a bit of profit in the name of client relations. This contract," he touched it, "is in need of client relations."

"They insulted you yesterday," Sheila said. "Now you've had your vengeance, you've rubbed their face in your money. Don't forget, Mattie, you'll be here for several more years, and Monday morning, you'll have class with these professors. Your relations are never going to be what they were."

"The drubbing your team gave McGonagall's won't help," Islington said. "Yes, they played a poor game. I know what giving and receiving that sort of drubbing feels like. A peace gesture will go a long way toward a profitable relationship for everyone." Michael cracked his knuckles, adding, "You're the boss, we'll play it how you wish. However, that also means that you need to listen to our advice, whether you take it or not."

"Thanks, everyone. I know I'm new at this, I'll…" Mattie looked up as screaming and shouting penetrated the privacy spell. She banished the spell, to see and hear Violet and Jeremy Pellew screaming at each other. Mattie said, "Michael, I'm going to take your advice." Moving over behind Jeremy, she forced him into a seat.

Mattie put her fingers in her mouth and whistled, "I am going to put on my team owner's hat, and address both teams," she told the Gryffindor table. "Yes, there is a sense of satisfaction in so thoroughly stomping another team. However, if you have any plans or fantasies of playing professional Quidditch, you should know every professional team sends scouts to games. Where do you think we get our talent?" She looked at both teams, asking, "Mr. Islington, would you give us your professional opinion of both teams, and please don't ignore me. I want the good, the bad, and the ugly."

"Let's start with Slytherin," he said. "They've got a fairly effective tactic in their Ballistic, but they're using it too much. I've seen at least two methods of disrupting it." The Gryffindors looked at each other, shocked. "Your chasers move like a well oiled machine, they'll get better when Mr. Pellew gains experience. The beaters, especially Miss Tonks, need experience and different tactics; they're focusing too much on defense. Miss Wayne gets too complacent when she's guarding the snitch, I spotted at least six occasions when she was occupied with something else; Miss Wilson could have stolen it easily." Mattie blushed, but Michael moved on.

"Gryffindor deserved to lose," he said. "There's no excuse for that sloppy play, especially when their only goal was on a penalty shot. However, Slytherin rubbed salt into the wound. That was poor sportsmanship on their part. Were I captaining Slytherin, I would have called for the snitch capture at one hundred points difference." Karen blushed; Michael bore on, "The two bright spots on the Gryffindor bench were Miss Pellew and Mr. Spencer. Unlike the other chasers, Miss Pellew continued to give her best effort, while her team-mates gave up. Mr. Spencer, despite a barrage of Quaffles, continued his best efforts. Were I to recommend a player in this room for a professional tryout, it would be Mr. Spencer." Raising a hand, he added, "This is not to short Miss Pellew. When she has a few years more experience, I may make a similar recommendation for her." He looked at the table, adding, "I am not the official talent scout. I do, however have several years of professional Quidditch experience."

"Thank you, Mr. Islington," Mattie said. "When I receive the official report, I will make a copy available to Mr. Snape and Miss McGonagall. Next month, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw play, I will make their reports available as well. It would be nice if Hogwarts becomes as well known for its Quidditch as for its academics." She stepped back from the Gryffindor table, adding, "I had a few other Quidditch related thoughts, perhaps Miss McGonagall might give me her opinion?"

_**

* * *

Saturday, November 6, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff room: 12:15  
**

* * *

_"Allow me, Miss Wayne," Minerva said, opening the door to the staff room. 

"Thank you, Miss McGonagall," she replied, taking her seat. She looked over at Fred, "Mr. Weasley, I was just informed of the death of your parents. Would you like to reschedule this meeting for another time?"

He swallowed, then said, "No, but thank you anyway. Speaking for my family, I appreciate your thoughts."

"If you're certain?" Fred nodded, Mattie asking, "If I may have the date and location, I'd at least like to send some flowers." Fred nodded again, and she continued, "While this may be in poor taste at this time, Mr. Weasley, I'd like for you to consider another meeting with the Bats. I'm thinking of your shop either carrying our merchandising line, or possibly a shop in the stadium, if, that is, Mr. Dumbledore and Miss McGonagall are interested?"

Albus and Minerva traded glances, Albus saying, "Quite possibly, Miss Wayne. We can indeed examine this later, however."

"Excellent!" Mattie smiled, adding, "I believe Mr. Griplink had some revised calculations for commissary revenues versus the gate. Mr. Griplink?"

* * *


	11. Classes, Week Eleven, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

11 – Classes, Week Eleven, Second Year

* * *

**_Thursday, November 11, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Entrance hall: 12:11  
_**

* * *

"…So, we're all standing around outside the staff room, and I can't go through the door because of the bloody charm," Mattie said. "My people aren't going to go in without me, Fred Weasley is looking embarrassed, so I clear my throat, and say, 'Miss McGonagall? The charm?' and she ignores me." 

"Not the brightest thing to do," Amanda said as she loosened her winter cloak. Arthur snorted agreement.

"I figure maybe she didn't hear me, so I wait a minute or so, Dumbledore is sitting there looking right at me with this little half-smile on his face," Mattie continued. "I'm thinking this may be some sort of weird etiquette thing, so I clear my throat again. McGonagall gets this little half-smile, like Dumbledore, but continues to sort through her papers. At this point, it's clear even to _me_ they're ignoring me, so I take a couple steps to the left and do '_Stan Dividere_' on the wall."

"How'd they like that?" Charlie asked.

"Shocked the hell out of them," Mattie grinned. She paused to dig the fragment out of her bag, passing it to Arthur, "Souvenir, thanks for finding the spell. Anyway, at that point, I was tempted to do some sort of dramatic announcement, like 'you need me more than I need you, go ahead and close the school!' kinda thing."

"No! You wouldn't!" Andrew gasped, and Mattie grinned.

"Would I do that to my friends? Na, thinking on it later, I decided that they've been on top in these situations so much they're not used to being the supplicant." Mattie grinned again, "I also knew _exactly_ what they were spending where. So I toss that fragment on the table, sit down cool and collected, and start to introduce people."

"Why toss the fragment on the table?" one of the twins wanted to know.

"Business psychology, the same reason Dad keeps a collection of weapons in his office," Mattie explained. "It intimidates people on a subconscious level. The HR manager used to keep a hatchet buried in a block of wood…" The double doors banged open, a man shouting, "Nobody move! I'm Deputy Minister Edward Hansen, from the Ministry! For your own safety, we're taking the three werewolves into protective custody! Co-operate and no one will be hurt!"

Mattie glanced at Sprink, then at Charlie and Arthur. Pushing through the crowd as they hurried her away, she called "Minister Fudge is a cowardly arse!"

Hansen sneered, "Wayne. It figures you'd be the troublemaker here. Run off to class, little girl."

"Oh, I'm a little girl now? Tell me, Deputy Minister Buttlicker Arsewipe, is Fudge's arse still soft for your tongue, or has he had to switch bog papers with his budget crunch?" Hansen's face turned red, as Mattie continued, "Last year I was a dangerous assassin, now I'm an innocent little girl. Get it straight, you stupid twit. If Fudge wants my friends, asshole, he's going to have to go through me first," she sneered, "Of course, Fudgie is too much of a bloody coward to show his face. Don't you get tired of his hiding behind your robes, you bootlicking arsewipe?"

"You don't know what you're talking about, little girl," he sneered. They both spun when one of the DMLE thugs called, "Here's one!" as he grabbed Amy Johnson, portkeying out.

"You managed to kidnap a little girl, asshole," Mattie taunted as student wands were drawn. "Congratulations. The odds were only eight to one, but that's considered high odds for you dunderheads. Tell me; is that justice under the Fudge ministry, torture and imprisonment of children for political gain? Is the rule of law for sale, or just for rent?" She saw his fingers twitch toward his wand, adding, "Go ahead, bootlicker. Draw on a 'little girl'. You don't have the balls." Mattie stood, arms outstretched, ten feet away from Hansen, adding, "Here I am, arselicker, I'm not hiding behind someone's robes!"

Hansen growled, "You asked for it, Wayne! _Stupefy_!" Mattie danced out of the way as a DMLE thug stunned Jeremy, calling, "Here's another, the male!" as he portkeyed out.

A dungbomb went off in the middle of the DMLE group, as Mattie called, "You missed, Hansen! How can you miss from ten feet? Let me try: '_tarantellegra__'_!"

"I've had it with you, Wayne! '_Stupefy_'!" She dodged again, and he screamed, "Stand still!"

"Why, so you can kidnap me again? Do I look that stupid?" Mattie asked. A spell zipped in from the crowd, Hansen flipping upside down and screaming in rage. Mattie moved to stand in front of him, and spat in his face.

The spell holding him upside down was cancelled, Hansen climbing shakily to his feet. Mattie stood, three feet away, and made a rude gesture. "Pass that on to Fudgie, would you, arselicker? Thanks," she turned and casually strolled away.

"'_Incarcerous_'!" Hansen screamed. Ropes spun out of his wand, hitting Mattie. She pulled out a knife and started cutting, when someone said, "'_Finite Incantatem_'."

"Thanks," Mattie said. Calling to the smirking Hansen, "So, you can only attack from the back. It's what I would expect from Fudge and his arselickers. Very honorable. You'll notice I'm facing you, bootlicker. '_Everte Statum_'."

Hansen flew backward, slamming into the stone wall. "Wayne, I have one word for you," Hansen said, slowly raising his wand. "_Cruc__…_" a small sharp stone came flying in, hitting his right shoulder near the carotid artery; he screamed and dropped his wand.

Mattie called, "Thanks, whoever did that. Now it's my turn to play, you naughty, naughty, arselicker. It's a traditional one for my house: '_Serpensortia maxima_'!"

A huge king cobra materialized, sliding toward Hansen. The students screamed and vanished as the snake's crest flared, its mouth opened, venom dripping from its fangs. One of his thugs blasted the snake, as Hansen called, "Search the castle! The last one's here somewhere!" He clutched his bloody shoulder and staggered off toward the stairs.

* * *

While Mattie insulted Hansen, Ginny slipped through a hidden corridor, emerging outside the Slytherin dorms. She rushed down to the dorm her parents were in, telling them, "Ministry raid! I've got to transfigure you two into firsties!" 

"All right, dear," Molly said, adding to her husband, "Follow my lead."

* * *

"An' jus' where d'ye think y' gai'n, lad?" Hagrid asked the DMLE thug. "T'ain't nae wee 'wolves in Gryffindor t'wer. I'm th' Dang'ous C'tures p'fessor, I'd knae aboot any." 

"This is an official search, authorized by Deputy Minister Hansen!"

"I dinnae care if Fudge flew u' here on a' dragon wearin' a pink dress!" Hagrid said, and the Fat Lady sniffed in her portrait. "Sorry," he said over his shoulder to her. "Tha' ain't nae 'wolves in Gryffindor! Nae, bugger off."

"But you have searched…" the calm voice of Harry Potter said, locking eyes with the thug. "You've searched all of Gryffindor tower, and the sixth and seventh floors. You haven't found a thing; you're going to report this to the Deputy Minister…"

"…I'm going to report this to the Deputy Minister…"

"That's right. You haven't found anything, your information is in error…"

"…My information is in error…"

"You need to report to the Deputy Minister straight away…"

"…Straight away…" Harry stepped back, and snapped his fingers. The thug shook himself; then nodded politely. "Thank you for your co-operation. I must report straightaway."

Harry and Hagrid smiled, and moved out of his way. They watched him go, then Hagrid leaned over, "Think it worked?"

Harry sighed, "I don't know. I'm going down to Hufflepuff to see if Miss Wayne needs help. Can you check the Ravenclaws?"

* * *

Surrounded by a green glow, Mattie watched, sweat dripping off her face as two DMLE thugs walked in place, opening invisible cupboards and trunks, yanking open invisible bed hangings, and pulling open doors. Professor Harry entered, Mattie's eyes flicking to him, as the two thugs turned as well. She forced her eyes back, and they resumed their invisible search as the Hufflepuffs watched; wands ready.

* * *

"Just _where_ do you think you are going?" the icy voice of the Potions Master inquired. 

"Searchin' for the werewolf," the braver of the two replied. He remembered classes with Professor Snape. "Our information is that she's in Slytherin."

"I see," the Potion Master replied. "If your information is true, then you will also have the password for the Common Room, Mr. Miller. Yes, I quite remember you and Mr. Shultz as well. Failed your Potions OWLS, the both of you," he sneered. Waving, he stepped aside, adding, "It is a common phrase in parseltongue. You should not have any problems."

"But… we don't speak parseltongue!" Shultz protested.

"Failed at inter-house relations, too," Professor Snape sighed. "Didn't you dunderheads learn _anything_ in your time here?" He turned and hissed at the statue, which obediently slid aside as he commented, "Members of the Snake's Den speak parseltongue, Mr. Shultz. I suggest remedial studies."

The two nervous thugs entered, Professor Snape announcing to the students in the common room, "These two…gentlemen… are from the Ministry. Unfortunately, they do not speak parseltongue, so please assist them in English. They believe we are harbouring a werewolf in our midst. Please assist them in searching for such a dangerous creature." He moved to the side, crossing his arms as the students started to hiss at each other as they glowered, fingering wands. They moved down the stairs leading to the dorms, where after a minute, a piercing scream echoed up the stairwell. Professor Snape was down the stairs in an instant, his shout echoing, "These two girls are clearly NOT your alleged werewolf, you fools! Didn't your mothers teach you thickheaded dunderheads to knock before entering a room?"

* * *

The two DMLE thugs left the Hufflepuff common room, where Mattie collapsed. Eleanor reached her first, helping the Slytherin into a chair, and asking, "What did they see?" 

"Exactly what I wanted them to see," Mattie said, nodding her thanks for a glass of water. "They searched every space in every dorm that someone could hide, and found nothing. Well, I should say, in the older boy's dorms, they did find some copies of Playwizard." Eleanor smirked as Mattie heaved herself out of the chair. "I've got to get to Ravenclaw."

"Professor Harry said he'll take care of them, and Hagrid took care of the Gryffs," Eleanor said. "Sprink's in the second-year boy's dorm if you want to check on her."

"Thanks, although I'd love to see what Professor Snape does to these idiots."

Eleanor put out her hand, "Wayne. You know I'm muggleborn?" Mattie nodded, and Eleanor asked, "I watch telly; I recognized the green glow you were using. Where'd you get a Green Lantern power ring?"

Mattie sighed, slumping back into the chair. She raised her right hand, displaying the ring, "My brother got it for me after Fudge kidnapped me last year, and I really wish he hadn't." She glanced at Eleanor, adding, "Don't ask how he got it, please. I don't want it, I don't dare leave it anywhere and I can't trust _anyone_ with something like this. This is really the first time I've used it, keeping those two seeing what I wanted them to. Got any suggestions?"

Eleanor sat back, "You're in a box, all right. I can see why he got it, but what you do with the bloody thing…" She glanced at the ring, "Sorry, all I can think of is Quidditch. What are your plans?"

"Professor Snape wants me to surrender it before the game. I think that would be the ethical thing, if I can't figure out how to turn it off." Mattie got a glazed look; then shook her head. "The ring just told me how," her brow scrunched, then she gave the ring to Eleanor. "Put it on and try to command it. Will something to happen."

She slowly slid it on her finger, saying, "What do I do?"

"Try… try willing that chair to move," Mattie suggested. Eleanor pointed her fist at the chair, scrunching up her face; shaking her head, "Nothing." She reluctantly took it off, handing it back to Mattie.

Mattie slid it on her finger again, scrunched her face, then pointed her fist, a thin green beam shot out of the ring, lifting the chair and moving it across the common room, then gently setting it back down. "Wow."

"Wow indeed."

* * *

"Mr. Hansen, how good to see you," Minerva McGonagall said. "Have you come regarding Felicia?" 

Hansen blinked, his shoulder bandaged, "What are you still doing here?"

"Oh, I'm much too busy to take a holiday now," Minerva said, addressing the statue, "_Puking Pastilles_." She motioned to the Deputy Minister, who preceded her up the stairs.

"Edward! How good of you to drop by!" the Headmaster called. "Would you care for a lemon drop?" Minerva smirked behind his back.

* * *

"Did you find her?" Edward Hansen asked. 

"Not in Gryffindor," one said. "I searched the tower, and the sixth and seventh floors, and found nothing."

"Nothing in Hufflepuff," another said. "We kept within sight of each other; the only thing we found was last month's issue of Playwizard."

"I searched Ravenclaw, and didn't find anything but textbooks," one said. "They have no social life; I didn't even find a copy of Playwizard!"

"The only thing we learned in Slytherin is that they all speak parseltongue," the last said. "That; and they're really creepy. They kept hissing at us, I thought they were going to throw curses at any time."

"I'm not surprised," Hansen said. "That's where You-Know-Who came from, they're all probably Death Eaters. It's a good thing you got out alive." He sighed, adding, "At least we got two of them. Let's get back to London."

**_

* * *

Thursday, November 11, 1999:  
London, DMLE holding cells: 17:11  
_**

* * *

"Where is she? Where is the last of you filthy mongrels?" the interrogator demanded of Amy Johnson, chained by the neck in the small stone cell. He backhanded her, "We know there are three of you! Save yourself some pain!" 

"Pain? You have no idea what pain is like!" she spat.

The interrogator stepped back, slamming the cell closed. "You'll be singing a different tune in Azkaban, little girl." He walked off as Amy shivered in her school uniform.

Jeremy waited a minute; then said, "I didn't really believe it last year, when I heard about what Wayne went through. Now…"

"Yeah," Amy said. "You really attack that arse Wayne was insulting?"

"I was going to," he sighed, then asked, "Can you transform? For the fur?"

"I tried earlier, there's some sort of blocking spell," she said, and shivered, raising her manacled hands. "Do you think they'll feed us?"

"From what Wayne reported, a stale half scone and a small tin of water every other day," Jeremy said. He yanked at the thick chains on his wrists and ankles, "All we can do is wait."

Amy's teeth chattered, "For how long?"

**_

* * *

Friday, November 12, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 07:11  
_**

* * *

"Ah, the man of the hour!" Cornelius Fudge called, asking, "Edward, what happened to your shoulder?" 

"Wayne happened," Hansen spat. "She interfered and I found myself dueling her in the Entrance Hall."

"Ah, well you had eight DMLE assistants with you," Fudge chortled. "I assume congratulations on her death are in order," Edward shook his head, "Severe injury? She's in St. Mungo's?" Hansen shook his head again, "Injured… at all?" Another head shake, and Fudge asked, "She wasn't injured at all? She must have been across the hall, then, under cover."

Hansen swallowed hard, and shook his head, "She was…three feet away," he mumbled.

"Did you say she was _three feet_ away, and you couldn't hit her with a single curse?" Fudge asked in astonishment. Hansen nodded, Fudge looked at him and repeated, "She was closer to you than I am, and you couldn't even hit her with a stunner?"

"She kept MOVING!" Hansen yelled. "She's like a bloody Snitch! And then she turned, and made this…gesture, and…"

Fudge stood, shouting, "You couldn't hit a little girl IN THE BACK from THREE FEET with a stunner, or a body bind, or even '_Avada'_? Did anything go _right_?"

"We managed to get two of the three werewolves; they're in the special animagus cells now. The third slipped through our fingers however, despite a thorough search for her."

"A thorough search," Fudge sneered. "Tell me, Edward, did the two you did manage to capture put up a fierce resistance? No doubt many of your squad were injured or killed in their capture."

"Err, not exactly," Hansen admitted. "They were just…standing there. We grabbed them and portkeyed them out."

"Edward, Edward," Fudge said, shaking his head. "I give you a very _simple_ assignment, one that _you_ had suggested. You were to go to Hogwarts, arrest these three werewolves, and if you had the chance, you were to kill Wayne." He sighed, "Perhaps I should give the contract on Wayne to Weasley, now that he's finally gotten the backbone to kill. Not only do you fail on this extremely _simple_ assignment, even with sufficient force from DMLE, but you fail to remove one of our three main enemies. She's not Dumbledore, Edward, or even Potter. Wayne's a second year Hogwarts student; she shouldn't have taken more than a twitch of your wand." Fudge sighed, "Well, I'm sure they'll root out this dangerous werewolf themselves, so it can be properly disposed of," Fudge said. "Let them think she's hidden. Keep a proper eye on Hogwarts and she'll turn up. When she does, we can get all of them," he added as he turned to face Hansen. "The core of our enemies are at Hogwarts. Dumbledore, Potter, and Wayne." Fudge sat back in his chair, musing, "Perhaps we should have Weasley take them out. Killing off his parents seems to finally have given him some backbone."

**_

* * *

Friday, November 12, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:11  
_**

* * *

"Professor Dumbledore, what's being done to rescue Amy and Jeremy?" Harry Spencer called as the headmaster entered the Great Hall. 

"We are studying the problem, and will effect a rescue in due time, Mr. Spencer."

"That's not good enough!" someone called from Hufflepuff.

"These are our mates!" someone else from Ravenclaw called. "They could be dead by now!

"We have not yet had a report from our spies in the Ministry," the headmaster said, and Felicia Hansen smirked. "We need information before we can formulate a plan. Now, I think it best that you all move off to class." Grumbling, students started to leave the Great Hall. Albus sat down, Harry leaning forward, "What exactly _are_ your plans, Albus?"

**_

* * *

Friday, November 12, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Charms class: 08:16  
_**

* * *

The second-years stood outside the Charms class, waiting for Professor Flitwick. Sprink broke the silence, "What do we do about Amy and Jeremy?" 

"We've got to go after them, that's what they'd do for us," Charlie said.

"I don't even know where the Ministry is, or where they are," Mattie said. "I know it's in London somewhere, but that's it." She sighed, "The headmaster's right, we need information first."

"I never thought you'd give up, Wayne," Andrew said.

Mattie turned in response, "What do you want me to do? I don't know where they are, or what condition they're in. If we invade the wrong place, it won't do them any good, and it might get us killed."

"Last year, it took a while before we found Mattie," Sprink said. "We knew where she was, but not where Azkaban was. Once we knew, Professor McGonagall could sneak in with her mum and rescue her. Th' professor said both my animal form and Professor Harry's were too big." She turned red, covering her mouth, "I shouldn't have said that about Professor Harry!"

**_

* * *

Friday, November 12, 1999:  
Hogwarts, DADA class: 08:21  
_**

* * *

Professor Harry arrived to find his first-year class waiting for him. Waving his hand, he unlocked the door, following them in. Throwing his robes across a chair, he said, "Well, since we've got a bit of time before class officially starts, I'm sure that you want to discuss the kidnapping of two students yesterday." 

"Too bloody right!" Daphne said. "I saw what Wayne did in our common room, what about the other houses?"

"Professor Snape convinced them we all spoke parseltongue, and browbeat them until they left," Jeremy said, "What did Wayne do?"

"She convinced them they searched the dorms and didn't find anything, when all those two louts actually did was march about in the common room," Stephanie said.

"Professor Harry, what did you do?" Hartley asked.

Harry grinned, "I took a page from Wayne's book, all your bloke found was textbooks. Not even a copy of Playwizard or Witch Weekly." He grinned, adding, "All you Ravenclaws do is study, you're so boring."

"I'll agree with that," Jeremy said, and Louis threw a quill at him. He grinned, and threw it back.

Professor Harry cleared his throat, grinning, "I think we're all just a bit tired of Mr. Fudge's Ministry. Unfortunately, the Wizengamot has to move a vote of no confidence by two-thirds before he can be removed, and he's got that many in his pocket. So, last year on the train, I was sitting with a group of Yanks, they drew up this little manifesto." He raised his hand, "I'm not asking anyone to do more than read it, and since you're all underage, you can't sign it. I'd appreciate it if someone would post a copy in each common room." He started to pass sheets of parchment back:

_Declaration of Separation_

_We, the undersigned wizarding population of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, do hereby state our intentions. Given that the current Ministry of Magic under Cornelius Oswald Fudge has amply demonstrated their complete corruption, and lack of regard for the rule of law, as well as regard of ordinary witches and wizards, we do declare: _

_1. __We no longer consider ourselves bound by the laws, rulings and dictates of the British Ministry of Magic. _

_2. __We will no longer pay taxes to the British Ministry of Magic._

_3. __We will observe the muggle laws of Great Britain and Northern Ireland._

_4. __We request and require the muggle government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland to provide appropriate governmental services (defense, fire, police, etc.)._

_5. __We will pay normal muggle taxation rates to the government of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. _

_6. __We will observe the Convention on International Wizarding Secrecy._

_7. __We will observe the Conventions on underage magic use. _

_8. __We will observe the age of muggle majority (16) to be the age of consent. _

_9. __We will observe full civil rights to those currently denied them, such as giants, werewolves, vampires and vela._

_10. __Those persons considered 'dangerous' (giants, werewolves, vampires and vela) will act appropriately to ensure their safety and those around them. This will include appropriate potions and self-confinement as necessary. _

_11. __In order to eliminate the dictatorial power of the office of the Minister of Magic, we call for a unicameral, at-large wizarding Parliament of one hundred members. Such a parliament may pass and revoke legislation using a simple majority (51 votes or greater). _

_12. __A separate judiciary is called for, independent of the authority of the Minister of Magic. A single, randomly chosen magistrate for misdemeanor offenses and a randomly chosen three-judge panel for felony offenses are requested. _

_13. __Court-appointed and paid solicitors will be made available to indigent defendants._

_14. __All other laws, proclamations and edicts enacted by the Fudge Ministry are considered null and void. _

_If you agree with the above declaration, and will abide by its provisions, please tap your wand below. All copies will be magically updated. Ages sixteen and over only, please. _

_Signed, _

_The committee on reform of the Ministry of Magic._

Daphne said, "This needs to be posted in Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley."

"It is," Professor Harry said, "Look at the bottom." The names _Ginevra Potter, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Ronald Weasley_ and _Ian MacDonald_ appeared. A few seconds later, _Lee Jordan_ and _Aberforth__ Dumbledore_ appeared. Professor Harry raised his hand, adding, "Please be aware that when people sign it, that action can be considered treason against the Fudge Ministry. They're risking a Dementors' Kiss."

"What's life without risk?" Daphne said, "Bloody hell, who's Elizabeth Spencer?" Professor Harry simply pointed to the photo of the Queen on the wall, adding, "Hogwarts, class of 1945."

'_Catriona__ McCormack_' and '_Meghan McCormack_' appeared, Professor Harry saying, "Oh, it's gone down the Alley to Quality Quidditch. '_Celestina__ Warbeck_' appeared next, followed by '_Kirley__ McCormack_', '_Remus J. Lupin_', '_Alastair Moody_' and '_Alice Longbottom_'. Professor Harry leaned forward to tap Lee's copy with his forefinger, '_Harry James Potter_', '_Orsino__ Thruston_' and '_Tracey Davis_' appearing next.

"Well, we can't sit here and watch parchment all day," Professor Harry said. "We've still got time before class starts, how would you rescue Amy and Jeremy?"

**_

* * *

Saturday, November 13, 1999:  
London, DMLE holding cells: 21:01  
_**

* * *

"Evening, gents," the older fellow said. "Name's John Perkins. Ministry called me out of retirement to give you boys a hand." He scratched an itch as he handed over a letter and an old weatherbeaten ID card. 

"Why'd you retire?" the sergeant asked as Perkins lowered himself to a chair.

Perkins grunted, pulling up a trouser leg to display a wooden leg. "Got that in the war, sonny, the one with Grindelwald." He pulled out a flask, taking a belt; then holding it up in offer. He coughed; then thumped his chest.

"What's in the flask?" the sergeant asked.

"Ain't pumpkin juice," Perkins smirked, "'Tis my medicine."

The sergeant sniffed the flask, "That's firewhisky!" One of the other guards called, "Take it easy, the old duffer's earned a few belts now and again."

"All right, but not too much, now. We've got a lot of dangerous criminals here."

"Well, let's see 'em!" Perkins said, thumping his walking stick. He slowly levered himself up, when the sergeant said, "Wait. How do we know you're not a werewolf?"

"Twit," Perkins said. He opened the collar of his robes, saying, "St. Christopher medal. Solid silver; got it from a muggle I knew in the war. Throw me a sickle."

"Why?"

"They're silver, you idiot! Werewolves can't abide silver, remember?" Someone tossed him a coin, and it lay on his open palm for everyone to see. Perkins flipped it back, "Answer your question?"

* * *

"So these are the dangerous werewolves," Perkins said. "Don't look so dangerous to me. Look like children left out in the cold." He poked Amy with his walking stick, "How old are you, girl?" 

"F…fif…fifteen in January," she answered with chattering teeth. Perkins grunted, asking, "What about you, son?"

"S…seventeen in April," Jeremy replied.

"Fifteen, seventeen. Yep, these are dangerous creatures, all right," Perkins snorted. "What they charged with?"

"Protective custody, for now."

"Doin' a helluva job of 'protectin' in my opinion," Perkins said. "Well, go ahead, open up!" He motioned at the cell doors, "I ain't gonna release 'em. You kill 'em or torture them on your watch, but for me, I wouldn't want my grandkids treated like that." He waved his flask, "Firewhisky, boy. Warm you up inside. You plannin' on attackin' me?"

"N…no, sir."

"Good. Open up." He waggled the flask at Amy, "Get you in a minute, darlin'."


	12. Classes, Week Twelve, Second Year

(A/N: Sorry for the screwup, everyone. This sitehas a new story upload interface that I'm not used to yet. I haven't been able to add the chapter title to the actual chapter - it's two seperate steps.)

* * *

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

12 – Classes, Week Twelve, Second Year

* * *

**_Monday, November 15, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 07:12  
_**

* * *

"Minister, were you in Diagon Alley this past weekend?" 

Cornelius Fudge looked up from the report he was reading, "Hmm? No, Edward, I wasn't. Why do you ask?"

"A rather radical document has been circulating, a petition, and it doesn't look good," Edward admitted.

"Pish-tosh, Edward! What can a petition do to us? How many werewolves have you managed to bag?"

"Thirty-seven, so far. We really ought to consider feeding them, you know," Hansen said.

"Why?" Umbridge asked. "Hunger just makes them weaker and easier to handle. Besides, we plan to kill them off next Tuesday, why bother?"

"Still, the guards don't know that, do they?" Percy asked. "If for no other reasons than to keep up appearances with them, perhaps we ought to provide the same rations we give to the Azkaban inmates." He glanced over at Umbridge, asking, "How are you coming with emptying out Azkaban?"

"If they're already insane, we've simply been chaining them on the tenth level and letting them drown," she smiled happily. "Unfortunately, there are only a dozen cells there, and so it's not going as smoothly as I would have liked. The warden is also complaining about the corpses taking up space in his graveyard, he'd rather portkey them back to their families." Umbridge frowned, "He's too soft, Cornelius, he's not fully on board. I want to replace him with one of us, someone like Edward or Weasley here."

"He's been with us a long time," Fudge mused. "Weasley, go out there, take a good thorough look about. Be back at the beginning of next month, if you feel the need to dismiss any of the staff, feel free. Oh, and Dolores, I think we'd best throw a bit of food to our captive werewolves. Weasley's right; must keep up appearances."

"Right-o, of course, the food doesn't have to be _edible_, now does it?" Dolores asked with a smirk.

**_

* * *

Monday, November 15, 1999:  
Hogwarts, DADA classroom: 17:00  
_**

* * *

The bell rang for the end of class, Professor Harry calling out, "I want at least two pages on household spells and their defensive uses for next week." 

Mattie paused, asking, "Professor? Do you know if Mr. Lupin's gotten his new robes?"

Harry sighed, "No, he insists the ones he has are fine, he doesn't need new ones."

Mattie snorted, "Well, I won't have him with me at that press conference in patched robes. He has new robes, _fashionable_ new robes, mind you, or he's off the platform. You did give him my letter?"

"I did, and for what it's worth, both Ginny and I agree with you. He must be presentable if he wants to make his case for werewolf rights, and looking like someone's dotty uncle won't do it," Harry snorted, "He's getting a 'I am not a charity case' attitude."

"Great, another one," Mattie muttered, "Fine, then tell him it's a loan from me, and he can work it off by tutoring me in, um… something." Mattie said. "Wizarding history and culture, maybe. However, he's got to pass Ginny's inspection or the deal's off."

"No arguments from me," Harry said.

**_

* * *

Monday, November 15, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 19:48  
_**

* * *

Harry looked up as his wife opened the door to their flat, throwing her icy, wet scarf and outer robes over a chair. Dobby materialized with a 'pop', taking the wet clothing and the boots she pulled off. Standing, she folded herself into his embrace, murmuring, "I could stay like this forever." 

"So could I," he agreed. He nuzzled her hair, then said, "Some hot tea, and proper food. Percy sent a letter; it's on the table waiting for you. I sent Hermes back to Penny."

"Oh, let me see!" she said, heading for the table. He caught her, "Food and tea, and a nice hot bath first. I don't want you coming down with the sniffles," turning her about, he ordered, "March, young lady!"

"Only if you join me," she pouted. "I need someone to scrub my back…"

* * *

"My, my, my," Ginny said, waving the decrypted document in the air to dry the ink. "Fudge plans a public execution of the three youngest werewolves just after the rise of the full moon next week, to 'demonstrate the threat they pose to the wizarding population'. The fact that they'll be chained in cages in Diagon Alley apparently doesn't worry him. The others will simply be shipped off to Azkaban the next day or so, charged and convicted of being a 'public menace'. They will, of course, be too weak after their change to offer much resistance." 

Harry rested his head on hers, "Anything else, love?"

"Yes, he attaches a list of captured wolves, and their cell locations." She passed him a sheet of parchment, looking up at him, "How are you going to get them out; and I want to come!"

"You know you can't after what Poppy told us," he said, glancing at her belly. "Besides, you're our spymaster, if Fudge was to capture you, the whole network would be blown." He sighed, "Wayne and the other students want to rush off and rescue their friends, and I really can't blame them."

"It's understandable, and from what little information Severus has let slip, she could be useful," Ginny mused, "If only she weren't so bloody _young_!" An impish look came in her eye; she looked up at her husband, "Fancy a holiday in the States? I'd love to see what kind of town produces someone like Mattie Wayne."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 16, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 07:24  
_**

* * *

The Headmaster had just set his teacup down, and had his fork halfway to his mouth, when Abby Michaels stood up from the Hufflepuff table, and called, "Headmaster, what are you doing to rescue Amy and Jeremy?" 

Albus paused, saying, "Plans are in the works, Miss Michaels. Do not worry."

"They're our friends!" someone shouted from Ravenclaw. "They could be dead by now!"

Harry Potter cleared his throat, carefully saying, "According to our reports, there have been several dozen kidnapped by the Ministry, including Amy and Jeremy. We cannot in good conscious rescue two and leave the rest to feel the displeasure of the Fudge ministry. In addition, the full moon is next Tuesday, the 23rd. We do not have adequate supplies of wolfsbane potion for all of them, or a secure place to house them. We must therefore, reluctantly wait until after next Tuesday."

"There is also the transport problem to resolve," Minerva said. "With the floo network shut down, we must create several dozen portkeys. We cannot assume they can apparate, and as the upper years know, distance matters in creating a portkey. Creating one from here to North America takes far more of a wizard's magical energy than from here to Aberdeen or London. Now multiply that by fifty or so."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 16, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Room of Requirement (DA meeting): 19:36  
_**

* * *

Harry Potter kept an eye on his wife across the room as he intercepted the Cortez twins. "Um, can I ask the two of you something, strictly unofficially?" 

"Sure, professor, what?" one of the twins asked.

"Ginny is thinking of taking a holiday in the States," and their faces split into grins, "Specifically, Gotham City."

The twins' paled, one of them saying carefully, "With all due respect to you and your wife, sir, are you insane?"

"We like Mattie, she's a fun person, and her family is great, but I wouldn't go back to that town without the 82nd Airborne!" the other twin said quietly as she kept an eye on Mattie.

Her sister nodded, "Sir, did you remember that little thing Mattie's aunt Lois wrote around Christmas?" Harry nodded, "She was understating things a bit, sir. How good are you and your wife at self defense? Without magic, without a wand?"

"We could be better," Harry admitted.

"We're New Yorkers. That's a tough town, we each have a green belt in Tai-Kwon-Do," one of the twins said. "It's nothing _close_ to Gotham. During that parking garage attack, we had trouble subduing _one_ gang member who wasn't much older than we were."

"Mattie, on the other hand, took out four in a few seconds without a hair out of place. Her aunt Sheila took out _nine_ without any problems in the same amount of time, also without breaking a sweat," her sister added.

"Talk Ginny out of the idea," they advised. "If she's determined to go, let the Waynes know you're coming. Mattie has six black belts, she needs it for that town." She grinned, saying, "See if you can talk her into Disney World or Key West instead."

The twins giggled, "A witch and a wizard going to the Magic Kingdom sounds about right."

**_

* * *

Thursday, November 18, 1999:  
London, DMLE holding cells: 07:24  
_**

* * *

"'Ere you go, you filthy buggers. Eat hearty, it's go'tae have to last ye!" the guard said as he tossed a scrap of bread and a small tin of water at Amy. 

"How… how about a warming spell?" she asked through chattering teeth.

"A spell? And have you escape and rip me bleedin' throat out?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Jeremy said.

"You're still too cocky, nuffink for you, lad," the guard said, proceeding down the dimly lit corridor. Behind him, Amy was trying to get the tin open. Chained with her wrists near her ankles, she could hear something sloshing inside, but the cap was on too tight for even her enhanced werewolf strength.

"What's the bread like?" Jeremy asked.

"I can't reach it, but it looks… moldy and there are… eww, things _moving_ in it!" she shuddered, adding, "I can't get the lid off this tin. I'll try tossing it to you." She worked forward, her neck chain forcing her to lean backward. Unfortunately, the tin bounced off Jeremy's cell door, landing in the middle of the narrow corridor.

**_

* * *

Friday, November 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ballycastle press conference: 16:24  
_**

* * *

"…That concludes the opening remarks," Mattie said. "Are there any questions?" Flashbulbs popped as reporters shouted, and Mattie added with a grin, "That was a rhetorical question." She pointed, "Yes, your name and paper, please?" 

"Ali Pessain, Quidditch Daily News. You're the youngest team owner in history, how does that make you feel?"

"Nervous, I hope I don't screw up too much," the reporters laughed, and Mattie continued with a grin, "We've got great fans, and a good financial and legal team. We've got great players and coaches, and a good partnership with Hogwarts, who were gracious enough to let us rent their stadium."

"You're still in school, does that create problems?"

"You are?"

"Mark Miller, Daily Prophet."

"It's created a few minor problems, Mr. Miller, but we try to work around them. For instance, right now I'm skiving off a class with Professor Flitwick." She grinned as people laughed. "I've got a good excuse; the Headmaster's sitting right behind me. Seriously, I try to handle Ballycastle business after class, at which time the Headmaster transforms into Mr. Dumbledore," she shrugged, "Keeps things neater. Next question…"

The doors banged open, Minister Fudge puffing his way to the head table. Mattie grinned slightly, as the politician took center stage, smiling at the press. She said, "How nice to have you stop by, Minister Fudge, taking time out of your busy day. What can we do for you?"

"I was in the neighborhood, and I thought I'd stop by…"

Mattie clapped her hands and smiled, the smile not reaching her eyes, "All the way from London for our inaugural game against the Magpies! I didn't know you were such a Quidditch fan, especially with the floo network still not working." She tisked, "That can't be good for the economy, especially this close to Christmas. Have you found out what's wrong with the network, Minister?"

Fudge was glancing about, and ignored the question, something the press took note of. He said, "You've got dangerous creatures here!"

Mattie looked confused, "Who, the press?" They chuckled, and she continued, "You feed them and they're fine for a while, Minister. You're perfectly safe."

"No, THEM! Sitting back there!"

"Who, Minister, my roommate Sprink? She's not dangerous unless we get into a Quidditch argument," Mattie sighed, adding to the press, "Unfortunately, she's a Magpies fan. Still, I thought she'd enjoy this, early Christmas present to see a game from the top box."

"No, the two werewolves!" Fudge blustered.

"Where? I don't see any dangerous creatures, Minister," Mattie said. "I see my roommate Sprink (who looked like everyone's younger sister), and her uncle Remus. Nope, no dangerous creatures here."

The press murmured a bit, watching the drama playing out. Fudge stalked back, and grabbed Remus by the back of his neck, saying, "This is a dangerous werewolf, and…"

Mattie had her wand out, "I will thank you, Minister, to release my friend and employee." Fudge blinked, and she raised her wand, "Minister, what is your intention?"

"I'm going to have these two arrested and…"

"Arrested? On what charges? Where is the warrant, Minister?" Mattie raised her wand, adding, "I'm waiting, Minister, for you to release Mr. Lupin and to answer the questions. What are the charges against Mr. Lupin and Miss Tonks?"

"They're dangerous werewolves!"

"Their medical condition means they give up their civil rights?" Mattie aimed her wand, adding, "In case you've forgotten, Minister, I'm an American, and we get upset about governments trampling on people's rights. We've fought two wars with England over that, in 1776 and 1812. Now, Minister, you can either produce an arrest warrant with criminal charges from the Queen's Bench, or you can release your grip on Mr. Lupin. Which will it be?"

**_

* * *

Saturday, November 20, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Werewolf cells: 13:36  
_**

* * *

"And just WHAT is going on here?" Professor Snape asked. 

"Our rescue effort, sir," Karen Bundy replied calmly. "Since the Headmaster seems reluctant, we thought we'd take matters into our own hands."

"And how do you expect to find them?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"I've visited the Ministry several times, Professor." Abby Michaels said. "We're making portkeys to the Atrium, and from there we'll use Morton's eyes to find our mates."

"What do you intend to do with them once you have them?" Severus asked. "Take them on a sightseeing trolley?"

"Two parts to that," Frank MacDonald said cheerfully. "First part is a one-way portkey to the cell here. The second is a sleepy gas, as this cell isn't big enough for fifty or so active werewolves." He frowned, adding, "It would be better if we knew exactly how many wolves there were."

"Thirty-seven as of Monday's reports," Professor Harry said. He glanced at his colleagues, "Have you tested the gas, and what about the guards?"

"The sleepy gas is where I come in," Sprink said. "Remus an' I tested it Wednesday afternoon, with Karen and Mattie as a control group."

"They yawned, transformed, and curled up to sleep nice as you please," Mattie said. "I had to use ice water to get her up Thursday morning, though. We were late for Herbology." She frowned, concentrating on the golden galleon on the chain, and whispered, "'_Portus Hogwarts Carcerous_'."

"Th' gas has a strong anesthetic and sopoforic component to it," Frank explained as Arthur transformed a gold galleon into a chain, passing it to Andrew Kirke, who attached it to another galleon. "Any non-werewolf that breathes it wants to sleep, but a bubble-head charm takes care o' that. Th' wolves don't feel the usual pain when they transform, and it's a fast-actin' sopoforic. They're asleep within twenty or thirty seconds."

"Most interesting, Mr. MacDonald. Ten points to Slytherin," Professor Snape said, "I would like to study this potion. Come with me, Miss Tonks, if you will accompany us?"

"Certainly, sir, but I'll decline the points. This is for everyone, not just Slytherin," Frank said as he stood up, Sprink trailing behind them.

"Have you tested your portkeys, and why is Miss Wayne making them?" Minerva asked. "That spell is in the restricted section, how did you get access?"

"Ask me no questions, Professor, and I'll tell you no lies," Abby misquoted with a grin. "Wayne's making them because she's a powerful witch, and we've tested it from Hagrid's pumpkin patch to this room here." She plucked one out of the box, and offered it to Minerva. "Feel free to test if you want, Professor."

Professor Harry said, "Budge over, Wayne, let me help." He sat next to her, tailor-fashion, as Minerva ran her wand over the portkey-medallion. He asked, "What about the guards?"

"I'm prepared for the guards," Mattie said. "It would help to know how many there are, though, on each shift."

"Six during the day, four at night," Harry said. "How do you plan to take them out?"

"No magic, that can be traced by the Ministry;" Mattie said with a grin. "I have my ways. Martial arts isn't just kicks, punches and throws," Mattie said. "It's also learning the body's strengths and weaknesses. A nerve touch renders the subject unconscious." She shrugged, adding, "Third-degree Formosan karate technique."

* * *

"One moment, Miss Tonks," the Potion Master said as he unlocked the door to his private laboratory. "I have moon dust in here; I do not know how you will react to it." 

She paused, as Frank peeked around the door. "Where did you get that, sir?"

"Never you mind," Severus said as he opened his safe. "I have several kilograms of it." He glared at the seventh-year, "Do not press the issue."

"What would it do, Professor? Cure me?" Sprink called from outside the door.

"Or render you permanently feral," the Potion Master replied. "At this point, I do not know which. That is the reason for the testing which was interrupted last month. It can possibly be resumed after the holidays, with a larger group this time. I will request the Headmaster enlarge those cells." He locked the safe, calling, "You may enter, Miss Tonks. Mr. MacDonald, show me your potion notes."


	13. Classes, Week Thirteen, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

13 – Classes, Week Thirteen, Second Year

* * *

**_Sunday, November 21, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Room of Requirement: 10:11  
_**

* * *

"Aunt Sheila!" Mattie called. She hugged her aunt, then asked, "It's great to see you, but why are you here?" 

"Officially? Ballycastle business. I do have a bit to discuss with you later. But since we figured you were going to run off to rescue your friends, you could use someone with a bit more experience along." Sheila pulled out a chair and sat down.

"I've got Dad's permission?" Mattie grinned, "That's cool."

"A job like this should let you stretch your wings a bit," Sheila grinned, glancing at Professor Harry. "Certain of your professors also wanted the help."

"We wanted our arses covered, in other words," Harry added.

"Anyway, kiddo, I'm sure you could do this yourself, but I was getting bored with paperwork in London," Sheila said. "Be glad your Mom is tied up with Thanksgiving parties at home."

"Excuse me," Abby Michaels asked, "You think this will be an _easy_ job?"

"Breaking in to a government office, freeing some prisoners, and," Sheila grinned at Professor Harry, "Leaving a calling card? That's a nice touch. We're not minimizing the risk, there is the possibility that we could be captured or killed. However, with proper planning, the biggest problem we should have is carrying all the gold, and you've spells for that." She opened a binder, "Let's go over your plan, and see where we can improve it."

"Just remember, we've spies among the guards. They're not to be killed," Harry said.

* * *

Arthur asked, "Who's running this operation? I think Mattie should." 

Minerva cocked her head, "Why do you say that, Mr. Morton?"

"Simple," he said, "You and I will be scouting up ahead, Professor. You'll be in your cat form, and can't communicate, except by signaling with your tail. I don't have experience in covert operations, and Abby doesn't either. Ms. Hawking isn't a witch, which disqualifies her, and she'll be with Abby in the trailing position. That leaves either Mattie or Professor Potter, who's a trained wizard. How much covert experience do you have, Professor?"

"I agree with Mr. Morton," Harry said. "I'm the magical backup, but this will be as non-magical as possible. I also have a limited amount of experience in that type of thing, so someone that has should lead it." He steepled his hands, adding, "That means, Miss Wayne, our lives, those of the captives and the success of the mission are in your hands. Can you handle it?"

Mattie took a breath, held it; saying, "If Ms. Hawking will agree to be my backup, I'll agree. Moonrise is," she flipped through some notes, "Four-forty on Tuesday afternoon in London. Working backward from that, since we want this to be a surprise to Mr. Fudge, we need to enter the Ministry no later than…"

**_

* * *

Sunday, November 21, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 11:21  
_**

* * *

"Narcissa, I trust you got my little note?" 

Narcissa Black looked at the grinning student. '_That expression reminds me of Lucius… It can't be, though. Can it?_' she thought. "Note? No, I haven't received any notes from you. However, since you're here, there are things we need to discuss."

"Oh, yes, there are 'things to discuss', the first-year said. "Discussions regarding my will and your obedience to my commands, Narcissa. Remember a little spell I placed on you when you read my letter? Now what was that?" The grin widened, "I remember! It was _'Fidelus Verias'_ wasn't it?" The first-year motioned to the Infirmary's office door. "After you, Narcissa. We need to talk about candles."

**_

* * *

Monday, November 22, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley: 09:26  
_**

* * *

Edward Hansen smiled with grim delight. They had managed to capture six more werewolves, including some that had naively turned themselves in to the Ministry because of their propaganda. One of these was a young boy, whose frightened mother had reluctantly turned him over. He smirked, soon she wouldn't have the problem of her son; she could get on with her life. 

He scowled at passerby. The Dark Lord had had the right idea; there were too many mudbloods and muggles infesting the magical world. Unfortunately, the Dark Lord hadn't granted him the Mark, choosing instead to keep Edward undercover, a sleeper agent. He was sure there were many others besides him; unfortunately Lucius had been his contact with the Dark Lord. When he had died in Azkaban, his contact with the rest of the network was lost.

Hansen turned to supervise the work crew. They sullenly assembled a platform that he and the Minister would mount, together with the three youngest of these dangerous creatures tomorrow night. He took a glance down the Alley, and then in front of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. The platform being built in front of their shop should shut up the annoying Weasleys. He strode over, and tore down the large Union Jack hanging next to their door. Unfortunately, too many merchants had the flag, as well as that damned petition. He had tried to bring the Minister's attention to it, but had been rebuffed. Well, he'd show them. In a few years, he'd be Minister, instead of that toad Umbridge, who was also jockeying for power. Throwing the flag down in the slush, he pointed his wand, a quick '_incendio_' destroying the rag.

**_

* * *

Monday, November 22, 1999:  
Gotham, Wayne headquarters, second floor employee gym: 12:09  
_**

* * *

"Need a sparring partner?" 

'Iron Mike' Tattaglia looked up, measuring the man. '_Black hair, ice blue eyes, good build,_' he thought, answering "Sure." The guy strapped on a pair of gloves, and entered the ring with him. They bumped gloves, introducing himself as "Bruce".

"One favor," Bruce said as they circled, "Avoid the face, please. I've got a charity thing to go to tonight, and my wife won't be pleased if I show up with a black eye."

"Charity thing?" Mike asked, realizing, '_Holy shit! This is Bruce Wayne!_' He took a step back, Bruce grinning, "This is the gym. In here, I'm Bruce. Up there," he motioned to the ceiling, "I'm Mr. Wayne. You gonna fight?"

'_The guys in the local ain't gonna believe this,_' Mike thought. "What the hell," he replied with a grin. "Loser buys the drinks?" Bruce grinned.

* * *

"So what's this charity thing?" Mike asked. Wayne gave as good as he got, so Mike had avoided the face. '_He takes a beating like a man. I don't wanna get him in trouble at home,_' he thought. 

"Gotham General's expanding their magnetic imaging program," Bruce replied. "It's a fundraiser for a new unit. Since they run five million plus a unit, we throw a fundraiser."

Mike took a sip of water, "You couldn't write a check?"

"It's not just the unit, but the building, operating costs, personnel, training, and so forth," Bruce explained. "You actually get more money by doing it this way, more people feel good about themselves, so they're more likely to contribute again…"

"You don't wanna go, though."

Bruce shook his head, "They're boring as hell," he admitted. "I'd rather be at home getting the house ready for Christmas. My daughter's coming home from school for the holidays." He pulled out his wallet, extracting a photo. "My two girls," passing a picture of Selina and Mattie to Mike.

"She's got her mom's eyes," Mike said, passing over a photo in return. "Annie, Mike Jr. and Steve. Where does your daughter go to school?"

"England," Bruce said. "Not just for the education, but for the security. You know what this town is like." Mike grunted as Bruce pulled out a group photo, "Last Christmas," he pointed with a straw, "We invited friends of Mattie to stay over for the holidays. These are the Cortez family from New York, and this mob is the Mortons from Columbus." He smiled, "Great time."

"Yeah, just regular folks," Mike said. "What do they do?"

"Bill Morton drives a truck for FedEx, his wife works in the library at Ohio State," Bruce said, "Maria Cortez is a lawyer for the City of New York, Julio is an accountant. Actually, Bill gave us the most problems last year."

"How so?" Mike asked.

"Had trouble getting time off," Bruce admitted. "Same problem this year. He's got fifteen-something years with FedEx, but his family was planning on going to England for the holidays. The tourist thing, only he won't be able to make it."

"Pity," Mike mused. He swirled the water in his bottle, asking, "He's union?"

"Teamsters. I don't know what local, though," Bruce admitted. He raised his hand, "Hey, I'm not asking…"

"You're not. You're just grousing in a bar," Mike answered. He pushed over a napkin, "Jot his name down, wouldya?"

**_

* * *

Monday, November 22, 1999:  
Columbus, FedEx distribution center: 13:49  
_**

* * *

"Hey, Bill! Bill Morton!" the shop steward called. "C'mere a minute." 

"Problem, Joe?"

"Yeah, I got a problem," the heavyset black man said. "What's this I hear about you not goin' with your family for the holidays?"

Bill shrugged, "I couldn't get time off, too low on the seniority list. How'd you know?"

"Hey, I'm steward, a little birdie told me," Joe said with a grin. "You wanna go? You got the time? Hell, you never take time, a'course you do."

"Of course, but…"

"You got passports and all that crap?" Bill nodded, and Joe said, "Let's make it happen then. You been bustin' your ass on overtime to pay for your kid's school, least the union can do is help out." He poked a meaty finger in Bill's chest, "That's what the union's for, numbnuts."

* * *

Joe knocked, making the cheap door shiver. He poked his head in, "Steve, I got a little unofficial problem." Steve waved him in; Joe continued, "Bill here can't get the time off to go to England with his family for Christmas. Think we can make that happen?" 

Steve changed windows; typing a bit on the computer, "When do you need, Bill?"

Joe eyed Bill, who said, "We have an early flight over on the 21st, arriving about five pm local time. The flight back is on New Years, a day for jet lag, so Monday the third I'm back."

Steve took a sip of coffee, typed a bit, then said, "If you can take off on the 20th, you'd be better. Transatlantic's a killer flight," and Joe nodded. "Only problem I see is getting Mario to cover your route on the 20th." He grinned at Bill, "Send me a postcard from London, would you?"

"I'll talk to Mario," Joe said. "Set it up, wouldya, Steve?"

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Room of Requirement: 12:13  
_**

* * *

Minerva entered the Room of Requirement, holding the door open for Abby Michaels. Professor Harry looked up, smiling and said, "Good afternoon, ladies. Dobby will be by with a light lunch in a minute. We can't have a growling stomach give us away. You can change on the left there; Mr. Morton is on the right."

* * *

Abby stopped, paralyzed by shock as she entered the small changing room. Before her stood two wraiths, clad from head to toe in material that seemed to absorb light. Aside from their height, the only difference between them was a small symbol on their left shoulders, one yellow, and one green. Dark capes that evoked a moonless night brushed the floor, equipment belts secured around their waists. They looked at her with featureless masks; Abby shivered from the sense of menace in the brightly lit room. 

"What…" Abby asked.

"Working clothes," the smaller wraith answered emotionlessly, "We've eaten, get dressed." Abby looked at Professor McGonagall. When she looked back, both wraiths had vanished.

* * *

"Are we finally ready?" the taller wraith asked. 

Abby and Arthur hefted their bundles of flowers (courtesy of Professor Sprout), while Mattie stowed the shrunken boxes of golden portkeys. Harry said, "Let me cast invisibility and silencing spells, then we can go."

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic Atrium: 13:31  
_**

* * *

With a discreet pop, Abby appeared in the Atrium. She heard in her earpiece, "This is Six. Sound off." 

"One," "Two," "Three," "Four," "Five."

"Good," Mattie, also known as 'Six' said. "Remember, you can still be felt, so avoid people. Proceed to the lift bank while Two distracts the guard. Four, what level do we need?"

Minerva moved to distract the guard, while Abby said, "The courtrooms are on level ten, that's where I'd start."

The guard got up to investigate a noise at the Fountain of Magical Brethren, and Abby slipped past his station. Harry said, "Three here. We want level nine; there are stairs going down to the courtrooms. End of the corridor from the lifts."

"End lift," Arthur, also known as Five; said. "Hurry up, we're holding it."

"Is everyone on?" Six asked. There were grunts of assent, and the doors closed before a puffing bureaucrat could board. They heard him say 'Bollocks!' as they descended.

* * *

Abby flattened herself against the wall as a sneering Edward Hansen strode past, followed by three guards, each with a werewolf in a full body bind floating at the tip of his wand. Abby felt herself tense as Jeremy floated past, when a hand clamped down on her arm. "We'll get them, don't worry," One whispered, "That means there's only three guards downstairs, and the door's still open. Come on!" 

"It's open because I'm holding it open with my hand," Arthur said.

* * *

"The door on the extreme left leads down to the dungeons," 'Five' said. "The extreme right has dementors," Arthur added. "What is it with spiral staircases here?" 

"Medieval architecture," Mattie said. "Quiet everyone. Five, see anyone coming?"

"A couple of cats, that's all. Maybe Two can talk to them?"

"Possibly," Minerva said. "'_Finite Incantatem_'" and she appeared, then shrinking into her cat form. She sat next to the cats; then rose back to her human form. "Two of the guards are in the guard room; the third is in the loo. I think we can dispense with the invisibility spell, they're starting to flicker."

"Leave mine on," Sheila (One) said. "I'm your ace in the hole."

"Good idea, One," Invisibility spells were dispersed, and Minerva the cat lead off, followed by Arthur, while Mattie and Harry faded into the shadows to follow. Abby swallowed nervously, casting a perimeter charm. She heard a soft chuckle, "Don't worry, Four. I'm with you."

"I can barely sense you, One," Abby whispered.

"Quiet! We can still be heard!" Six said. Abby rolled her eyes, and replied, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

"Rowrrr," Minerva purred, pushing the door to the guardroom. She left it open enough so the others could slip through. Jumping up to an empty chair, she stood, forepaws on the table, haughtily inspecting the card game. 

"You'll have to wait for the next hand, luv," one guard joked, throwing down a card. "Ha, beat that, mate!"

"Bugger," the other guard said, looking up from his hand into a black-clad nightmare. He shoved his chair back as he reached for his wand, collapsing as an invisible hand touched his shoulder.

"What?" the first said as his partner suddenly reached for his wand, only to have a black-clad hand touch his shoulder. He collapsed forward onto his winning hand, a flower dropped into the center of the table.

* * *

"Mattie, you _can't_ go in there!" Abby whispered, "That's the _gents_!" The door was yanked open, the third guard plowing into her. The guard staggered, then shook his head and saw four dark-clad figures. "Merlin!" he said, drawing his wand as he backed away, casting '_Protegro_'. He suddenly jerked forward, and collapsed. 

"I think you can take this spell off now," Sheila asked. "Give him a flower, and modify his memory so he only saw one person."

* * *

"More bad news," 'Three' said as he stood from where the third guard lay. "They've taken the three youngest to Diagon Alley for some reason." Harry swallowed, adding, "They've also got three new ones, so we've a total of forty to rescue here. How's our time?" 

"Fourteen twenty, so we've got two hours and twenty minutes," Mattie said. She passed Harry a small device, "This is a lock pick, modified to work on magical locks. No magic if we can help it. Two, Five, lead off."

* * *

Six pressed her pick against the cell door, which snicked open. She held her finger against her lips, and the haggard middle aged man nodded as she released his chains. She dropped a small reddish flower as she helped him to stand. Passing him the galleon on a chain, she whispered, "Over your neck. It's a portkey to a cell at Hogwarts, where you can transform safely." He nodded, the small wraith telling him, "Hold it, and say '_Hogwarts Carcerous_'." She turned to go, the man touching her elbow, "Bless you, luv." He touched the portkey and was gone, while Mattie stood, frozen for a second.

* * *

"Sixteen oh five," Six said, "We've got thirty five minutes to rescue the last three. Where are they?" 

"One of the 'wolves said he overheard the guards say they were going to Diagon Alley," Harry replied. "Put your portkeys on, I'll reset them for the back room of the Wheeze."

* * *

With a series of pops, the raiding party appeared in the small back room. Fred had his wand out, asking, "How did you get through our wards?" 

Harry removed his mask, saying, "I'm a part-owner, that's how. Know anything about a Ministry show in the Alley?"

Fred put his wand away, "Out front. It's a big stage with something covered in the back. Fudge is due to start babbling in a few minutes, ruining our business." He motioned to the others, eyes lingering on the two black wraiths, "Who are these, mate?"

"Friends of mine that you've never seen," Harry said, pulling his mask back on. "Want me to obliviate you?"

"That bad?" Fred asked with a chuckle. He unlocked the back door, adding, "Jump over the third step."

* * *

'_Sixteen ten_' Mattie fretted as she ghosted through the alley. She could hear crowd noises a few yards away, and touched her earworm. "This is Six, One and I will go take these out, and the rest of you keep an eye out for Fudge." 

"Are you sure, Six?" Minerva said. "Three and I could…"

"You're our backup, Two. Stand by." Minerva saw a flicker of black, and whispered a spell to extinguish a street lamp.

"Fudge is here," Abby whispered, as the portly Minister strode through the crowd, his way cleared by DMLE thugs. "He's got … four guards with him that I see."

"Can you and Five see any way to narrow those numbers down, Four?"

"Not without starting a riot, Six," Arthur answered. "Should I?"

"Negative."

"Guard is heading for the tarp," Harry warned.

"Take him out, Three." Harry moved behind the guard, and muttered '_Stupefy_' Grabbing the guard's DMLE cloak, he rolled the stunned guard under the platform. "I'm wearing his cloak, Six," Harry whispered as he assumed a guard position. "Proceed."

* * *

"Jeremy," Mattie whispered as she unlocked his cage. 

The shivering boy turned around, asking "Who're you?"

"Call me the Pimpernel, and you never saw me," she said as she unlocked his chains. She draped a chain over his head, "This will take you to a cell at Hogwarts. Use '_Hogwarts Carcerous_' for the portkey." She dropped a flower, and moved to the next cage as the crowd noise on the other side of the thin tarpaulin increased.

"Amy," the Pimpernel said as she unlocked the shivering werewolf's chains, "Did you hear what I told Jeremy?"

"Yes, but you'd best hurry," she said through clenched teeth. "I can feel the change about to start." Amy accepted the portkey, and popped away as a loud noise was heard.

"Leave me, it's too dangerous," Edward the five year old werewolf said. "You don't have much time!" The shackles snapped open, and he grabbed the portkey, muttering, '_Hogwarts Cenatio_' in his haste.

"Six to all, the last just used the wrong phrase on the portkey!" Mattie called.

"What did he say?" Minerva asked.

'_Hogwarts Cenatio_'

"We've just portkeyed a werewolf into the Great Hall," Minerva said grimly.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
London, Diagon Alley: 16:33  
_**

* * *

Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, stepped onto the podium, the dragon hide folder containing his speech in his left hand. He waved and smiled at the noisy crowd, then took a seat next to the tarp-covered cages in the back, Dolores sitting beside him as Edward moved to the podium for the opening remarks. "Listen to that, Dolores," he chortled. "They love me!" 

Dolores Umbridge turned to listen to what the crowd was shouting. She would hardly call it loving, more like a lynch mob. She smiled weakly, and agreed, "They certainly do, Cornelius," as she edged away. "Why aren't we hearing the werewolves? Certainly they can hear the mob."

"A silencing spell, no doubt," Fudge dismissed the worry. He checked his pocket watch; then said, "Drat that crowd. We're behind schedule." Edward blathered on, and Fudge leaned forward to hiss at him, "Edward!"

(16:38:50)  
"And now, a man that needs no introduction, may I present our beloved Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge!" Edward Hansen stood back, applauding as Fudge stood, waving at the crowd.

(16:39:05)  
"Thank you for that wonderful introduction, Edward!" Fudge said, smiling at the crowd. He snapped open his folder, and looked up at the crowd. "My fellow wizards…"

(16:39:20)  
The sniper settled into her perch, the crosshairs on her scope centered on Fudge's left ear. She took a breath, settled herself, and let out her breath as she squeezed the trigger…

(16:39:22)  
Crowd noise muffled the crack of the rifle as an errant gust of wind blew Fudge's speech out of his folder. He bent to retrieve it as Edward Hansen jumped up to help. The bullet creased the back of Fudge's head as it slammed through Hansen's head, burying itself in Dolores Umbridge's right shoulder as the exit wound sprayed blood on Umbridge, who started to scream hysterically. Hansen slowly folded down to the wooden platform, his eyes open.

(16:39:40)  
"Drat!" The sniper said, "I missed!" She brushed her long red hair out of her face, took one last look and apparated away.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 16:38  
_**

* * *

Edward the five-year-old werewolf dropped onto the Gryffindor table, just as Felicia Hansen was standing up to pour more pumpkin juice. She watched in horror as the small boy screamed and started to transform in front of her. As she stood, frozen in fear, the goblet she held dropped to the stone floor, drawing the werewolf's attention to her. A fourth-year shouted '_Stupefy_' while another shouted '_Incarcerous_'. Felicia screamed, flinging her arms up, as the werewolf latched onto her, fangs sinking deep into her arm. With a pop, a black-clad figure appeared, a slim green beam spearing from her hand to wrap around Felicia and the werewolf, lifting them off the floor as she flew out of the hall. From the Hufflepuff table a few feet away Charlie Adams watched; mouth open.

* * *

Mattie flew through the halls of Hogwarts, Edward thrashing against the green energy surrounding him while Felicia stared at nothing in shock. A tendril of energy opened the cell while acting as a barrier to any werewolves that might wake. Edward was gently deposited in the cell, the sleep gas taking effect as the cell was closed. Mattie watched as he staggered in circles; then collapsed. Felicia twisted to look at her captor, asking, "Are you going to put me in there?" 

The silent figure shook her head; then flew out, closing the barriers after her.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 16:39  
_**

* * *

The other five of the Pimpernel project appeared, Minerva pulling off her mask and fixing on Harry Spencer. "Mr. Spencer! What's happened?" 

He blinked; then said, "Professor? What…" She shook him, and he said, "A boy appeared, then started to transform into a werewolf in front of Felicia Hansen. She…" he swallowed, "She dropped her goblet in shock and he bit her."

"Was anyone else bitten?" He shook his head, "Someone in black appeared and carried them off on a green energy field. I don't know where." The five traded a look; then ran out of the hall, only to see a black figure flying up to the third floor.

* * *

Felicia had switched to silent sobs as she was gently deposited in a bed, the green energy changing to a mesh. Poppy Pomfrey hurried out of her office, asking, "What is going on?" 

When Felicia simply continued to sob, the black figure said, "Werewolf bite, right arm."

Poppy moved to look, drawing her wand and saying over her shoulder, "Get rid of this … thing. She's not infectious now."

The green field vanished, as Felicia hiccupped, saying, "I wasn't bitten?"

Poppy sighed, sitting on the bed next to the second-year. She raised the girl's arm, showing her the torn sleeve and the fresh white scar; then turned as several people ran in, including Minerva. She waved her wand; then said gently, "I said you weren't infectious _now_, child. However, you were definitely bitten. I'm sorry, would you like me to be present when we inform your father?"

"Father…" Felicia said, breaking into fresh sobs. "He'll disown me!"

"Now, dear…" Minerva said, sitting on Felicia's bed as the rest silently left.

* * *

Mattie waited until they were back in the Room of Requirement before unsealing her mask. "Oh, god, I wasn't fast enough! It's my fault she was bitten! He must have misheard the activation phrase!" 

"Less than a minute?" Abby said, sitting on the floor next to Mattie. "You were faster than the rest of us."

"Not good enough! I wasn't good enough! Arrgh!" Mattie leaped up, and began savagely beating a punching bag that appeared. Sheila squeezed Abby's shoulder; then braced the bag as Mattie assaulted it.

"Do you think she's at fault?" Harry asked; joining Arthur and Abby on the floor as Sheila spun the bag, allowing Mattie to abuse a new side.

Arthur shook his head, "We got forty-three out of forty-three out alive, with one injury and that wasn't one of us. Maybe he misheard the phrase; there was a lot of crowd noise for some reason. Considering the circumstances, I think we did damn well."

"Considering this was my first time doing something like this, I agree," Abby said, adding, "How long can she beat on that bag, it's almost destroyed!"

Arthur snorted, "Would you rather she beat on a person? She's blaming herself, whether she deserves to or not." Sheila spun the bag again; then leaned against it to brace it. Mattie changed her attacks on the bag to a series of kicks, using her momentum to switch back and forth in a savage blur. With a snap, one of the supporting chains snapped, Sheila changing the sides of the bag again. "What you're seeing is Mattie without the restraint she'd normally show." A second chain snapped.

**_

* * *

Tuesday, November 23, 1999:  
London, DMLE holding cells: 17:05  
_**

* * *

"'Bout time someone else got here," the sergeant said. 

"Sorry, mate. What's up wi' them?" Perkins said, nodding at the still-unconscious guards.

"Dunno. Found 'em like this, another one out in the 'allway wif' a little red flower next to 'em." The sergeant scratched his head, "They're alive, but I don' smell drink on 'em."

Perkins scratched his chin, "He's got his wand out a bit. Any magic done?"

"Jus' housekeepin' spells and such," he motioned to the small sink where a brush continually scrubbed a soapy teapot. "Let's wake 'em up, see what they say."

"_Enervate_!"

"Aaaugh! Get 'er away from me!" one guard said as he woke.

"'Er? Who's 'er?" Perkins asked.

"She's a bloody demon from 'ell! A black demon from the gates of Hell! I wasn't doin' nuffin, just playin' cards, I looked up and saw her, and then I wake up to your ugly mugs!" The guard shuddered, "All in black, she was, raised her hand, and then…"

"What about the flower?" Perkins asked, motioning to the red flower on top of the pot.

"Where'd that come from?" the newly wakened guard asked.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, November 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 07:13  
_**

* * *

"Post's here!" 

Abby looked up from her plate as the usual storm of owls (and bats) came in, dusted from the snowstorm outside. She took a sip of tea, glancing over her teacup at Mattie Wayne across the hall at the Slytherin table. She caught some of the covert glances Slytherin were giving the second-year as she went through the motions of breakfast.

"Oh, my!" Daphne said; the Reporter opened before her as she read the headline article. "Who's the Pimpernel?"

Charlie Adams snorted in mirth. "You lot have never read The Scarlet Pimpernel? It's about an English aristocrat during the French revolution, saved a lot of nobles from the guillotine."

"He's reappeared after two hundred years," Eleanor said. She shook out the Prophet, adding, "Interesting that the Ministry hasn't a word about Fudge's plan, just a glowing eulogy about that arse Hansen."

"That's no way to talk about the dead," Arthur snapped. "Did you forget that he's got a daughter here? What about Felicia's mother?"

Eleanor shook her head, "Killed a few years ago by Death Eaters. It looks like she's an orphan."

"And a werewolf," Charlie added. "She was Bitten yesterday." People winced in sympathy, Charlie saying, "I'm sure Professor McGonagall will straighten her out." He glanced at the head table, where Minerva was reading the Reporter.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, November 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 08:39  
_**

* * *

Sprink woke to the soft sounds of someone sobbing. She looked around the crowded ward, seeing one of her year mates crying. Felicia Hansen, she realized as her brain woke up. Shaking her head and thinking, '_That sleepy gas is strong!_' she groaned and threw back the covers, still clutching Mattie's worn clothing. "Hey there," she called softly to Felicia in the next bed. "What's wrong?" 

Edward staggered up, flopping on Sprink's bed, "I bit her yesterday," and Sprink inhaled. "I used the wrong phrase on the Pimpernel's portkey," he looked mournfully at Felicia, adding, "I'm so sorry."

"What happened?" Sprink asked.

"We were in cages, the Pimpernel came to rescue us just before moonrise," he said. "It was really noisy, and I could feel the change coming. I messed up what she told me."

Felicia sniffled, "You didn't want to bite me?"

Edward shook his head as Sprink explained, "When you're feral, it's like you're a passenger in your body. You see and remember what happens, but you have absolutely no control. You have this horrible urge to bite, to tear things apart. That's why the potion is such a help, it returns control to you. You still have this dreadful _need_ to bite, and you're still dangerous, but you retain your mind."

"Did I hear right?" Amy asked as she staggered over. "You were Bitten yesterday?" She looked at Edward, who nodded morosely, "I'm so sorry…"

"What are you all doing out of bed?" Poppy said as she strode up. "Go on, shoo! Back to bed with you! The elves will be up with breakfast shortly."

**_

* * *

Wednesday, November 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions Classroom: 09:00  
_**

* * *

The door slammed and locked on the stroke of nine. Professor Snape strode in with a swirl of black robes as the class was silent. He eyed the class, then asked, "Miss Cortez, where is Miss Tonks, your partner?" 

Roshawn cleared her throat, "Infirmary, sir. Last night was a full moon."

"Ah, yes," he made a note; then looked up, "Mr. Morton, where is Miss Hansen?"

"Also in the Infirmary, sir, she was Bitten yesterday." There was a collective murmur, and Mattie choked back a sob.

Professor Snape eyed Mattie, making a note, then said, "Partner with Miss Cortez, Mr. Morton. Miss Wayne, see me after class." She nodded as he continued, "Monday we started on pest-control potions as part of our household curriculum, today we brew the first of them, Doxycide. As they are designed to kill pests, you must exercise greater care than normal. Instructions are on the board."

* * *

Mattie cleared her throat, "You wanted to see me, sir?" 

He glowered at Arthur, who stopped dawdling and left. Casting a privacy spell, "Something is upsetting you, Miss Wayne. I will keep anything you tell me confidential, of course."

"You know where we were yesterday?"

"Officially, no, I do not. Unofficially, something went wrong?"

"I was releasing the last werewolf from his cage just before moonrise, he must have misheard the portkey phrase, or I should have repeated it. He portkeyed into the Great Hall, and before I could get there, he bit Felicia. It's my fault she's a werewolf!"

"I see," Severus said, as he sat in one of the student seats next to a morose Mattie. "What were the conditions when you were releasing him?"

"Noisy, just a minute or two before moonrise. That must have been when Hansen was shot. I gave the activation phrase to Amy and Jeremy, and Edward said he heard it, but then he said the wrong thing. I repeated what he said, and Professor McGonagall said that he went to the Great Hall instead of the cell." She looked at Severus, "I couldn't think of the spell to reset my portkey! It was a good twenty or thirty seconds before I could, and by then, she was bitten! It's my fault!"

Severus sat back and regarded her. "How much experience do you have with restricted spells like '_Portus'_?"

She shook her head, "Not much."

"They are restricted for a reason, Miss Wayne." He favored her with a small smile, "We are aware of the lure of the forbidden, and students over the centuries have been inventive in bypassing the wards. This is a side benefit, as it encourages students to be creative. However, a great majority of the information in the Restricted Section is either dark, dangerous, or both. You have run into a side effect of the _Portus_ spell, which I presume you did not research?"

"No, I accepted…" she suddenly stopped.

"You accepted Mr. Morton's directions on the spell, as he is extremely creative with his spellcasting." She nodded, "I will take no official notice of this, however, I will require from you and Mr. Morton a complete history and explanation of the _Portus_ spell, with all the options, before you leave for the Christmas holidays." She nodded again, "In any case, you are not responsible for someone else's performance of a spell. You gave him the correct information, when he erred; you tried to correct the problem. I see no reason for recriminations."

"But…"

"But you still have feelings of guilt," Severus said. "That is part of life; it indicates a sense of ethics and morals. If you did not have those feelings I would be greatly alarmed. Indeed, if my experience with other werewolves is accurate, Edward is now agonizing over his Bite of Miss Hansen."

"I should go apologize to them…"

"If you wish, however, unless you wish the Pimpernel to have a _very_ short career, I would sympathize, not apologize. When your father started his calling, he made mistakes?" She reluctantly nodded, "I am sure he learned from them, as well as his successes. Learn from this, and consider what can be improved." Severus' onyx eyes bored into Mattie's green eyes; then he nodded. "I will leave you with one thought. By all objective accounts, your mission was a success. You rescued all forty-three of the captive werewolves, and brought your team back without injury. In a combat environment, you do not have control of all factors. You did exceedingly well." He gave her a slight smile; dismissing the spell. "Go see your classmates. I am sure they will not object to your nibbling off their lunch trays."

**_

* * *

Thursday, November 25, 1999:  
Hogwarts, outside Greenhouse two: 09:05  
_**

* * *

The second-years stood outside, stomping their feet in the falling snow as they tried to stay warm. "This is bloody ridiculous," Charlie said. 

"At least you're wearing trousers," Amanda said, "It keeps the snow out of your shoes. Tights, on the other hand…"

"If we have to wear uniform skirts in winter, we should be allowed winter boots," one twin said, her sister adding, "Knee high, at least."

"You blokes have it so easy," Felicia offered hesitantly, "Skirts all year, because it's tradition?"

"Why not use a warming charm?" Andrew asked, Mattie answering, "You have warm feet then, but they're still wet."

"Then when the charm fades, you're standing about with wet feet that freeze," Amanda said.

The doors opened, steam flooding out, and the class hurried in.

_

* * *

To: Mattie Wayne (Hogwarts) (encrypted)  
From: Bruce Wayne  
Date: November 25, 1999  
Subject: Thanksgiving!  
Attachment: DiagonRaid 23Nov1999report (encrypted) _

_Mattie: _

_Your mother says I should send you a little note for Thanksgiving. I wish you were here to enjoy the season with us, but we're consoling each other with the thought that we'll see you in a few weeks when you come home for the holidays. _

_Your suggestion that we let the Mortons fly to Inverness for the deadhead flight was excellent. They report that they have passports and visas in order, and have a van reserved for rental on December 21st. According to them, Arthur still has no idea of this Christmas present. _

_The Cortez and Fook parents will be joining them on the Gulfstream for the flight over. Dick and Barbara will be joining them for the drive to Hogwarts, they will be returning on the flight back on the 22nd. _

_We're pleased that you've decided to take up the family business. Sheila will be visiting before Arthur leaves with his family. We've decided to set up a network of safe houses in London. I'm also attaching a copy of Sheila's after-action report on your raid. My comments are appended to it. _

_I understand that you're feeling some guilt about a bystander being injured. Regretfully, they are a byproduct of our war. We do all we can to minimize collateral damage, it still occurs. I understand Professor Snape has discussed this with you; I would take his advice in this case. _

_Love,_

_Your father _


	14. Interlude Two, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

14 – Interlude Two, Second Year

* * *

**_Sunday, November 28, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 09:11  
_**

* * *

"Come _on_, Felicia! They won't bite…err…" Amanda said. 

"Good choice of phrase, mate," Andrew said with a grin. "Look, Felicia, we rotate which table we sit at. This is the fourth week of the month, so we meet at the Slytherin table. You've missed a couple days; this is the best way to get caught up."

"But… I was so _horrible_ to them!"

Andrew glanced at Amanda, "Yes, you were," he said. "Did you apologize to Sprink?" Felicia nodded, Andrew continuing, "They're good people, and we all make mistakes. We'll be there for you." Felicia sighed and nodded, and allowed herself to be led.

* * *

Mattie yawned as she walked into the Great Hall, Sprink bouncy and chipper, chattering about something beside her. "G'morning," she mumbled, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She sighed, took another gulp; then waved her cup in salute, "Morning, Felicia. Feeling better?" 

Felicia nodded; she had been depressed when she heard about her father, suicidal when Cornelius Fudge, her godfather, had disowned her. Sprink had managed to snatch her wand when she had received the curt note before she could perform _Avada_ on herself. Amanda had kept her wand; this was the first attempt at socialization she had made. The Ministry had compounded the insult when it bureaucratically confiscated her late father's estate. She was now homeless and destitute.

"Professor McGonagall talked to me," Felicia said in a small voice. "She asked if I wanted to stay here over the hols. Where else would I go?" The Ministry hadn't allowed Felicia to reclaim any of her property from her former home, in a bizarre twist of logic reasoning that since she had been Bitten, she was in violation of the registration of Dangerous Creatures act, and her house and contents were thus Ministry property. The fact that the Dangerous Creatures office had been closed weeks earlier and she could not register was irrelevant to the Ministry bureaucrat that had forbid her access. Minerva was trying to adopt Felicia, but even with legal assistance, it was slow going. Adding to the problems was the 'fact' that Minerva was officially unemployed, and was illegally occupying her Hogwarts quarters.

"Professor Flitwick does Christmas up right," one of the twins said, "What about your House tree? You blokes have one set up?"

"Green and silver are not the best colors for a Christmas tree," Mattie admitted. "Of course, heaven forbid that we use other colors, like, oh, _red_ or _gold._"

"Just wouldn't be right at all," Sprink confirmed, and Felicia gave a small smile. "Of course, blue and bronze might not look bad."

"Or yellow and black?" Felicia offered hesitantly.

"Why don't we find out?" Charlie asked, flipping his Herbology book closed. "I don't want to study today. We'll go to all four common rooms; then we can vote."

"Can't vote for your own house, though," one twin said.

"Sounds fair," Andrew said. "You lot know where we are? Fifteen minutes, give us time to dump our books and meet there."

* * *

"First time I've been in the Gryff common room," Mattie confided to Felicia. "I had a tour before first-year with Ginny, I saw Ravenclaw then. I saw Hufflepuff last year when I had to drop off books for Professor Sprout, and again this year." Up at the top of the stairs, Andrew whispered the password to a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress. She opened, giving Mattie and the others a frown. "I don't know you." 

"We're touring each common room," Felicia told her. "We're going to vote on which house has the best Christmas tree."

"Gryffindor, of course, but I have to admit to bias," the portrait said. "In you go, dears."

* * *

"There you are," Professor McGonagall said, spying Felicia. "Please come see me later." She raised her eyebrow, asking, "What's going on?" 

"We're touring each common room; then we'll vote on the best tree," Charlie said.

"Capital idea, Mr. Adams!" Minerva said. "Keep ideas in mind, Hagrid will be setting up the year trees today." At their questioning looks, she said, "It's an idea we decided to revive. Each year has a tree to decorate. They'll be in the entrance hall." She motioned to the Gryffindor tree, adding, "Personally, I thought the snitches flying about were a bit over the top, but the students decorate it. At least they're golden."

* * *

On the way to Ravenclaw, Arthur said loudly, "I go up and down stairs all day long, I'm not going down and then back up unless I have to." Their tree seemed to glow, the light reflecting off the bronze and the small ever-burn candles gave a warm feeling.

* * *

"Which one next?" Andrew asked. "Slytherin, somewhere in the dungeons, or Hufflepuff?" 

"Slytherin's not that far, then we can go to Hufflepuff and then to the Great Hall for lunch," Charlie said.

"Works for us," Sprink said, leading off.

* * *

The Slytherin tree was _elegant_. Tasteful, the tree had tiny ever-burn candles placed throughout, light reflecting off the silver icing and crystal ornaments. Presents lay underneath on a white skirt of snow, wrapped in green velvet with silver thread. 

"Ooh, _pretty_!" Felicia and the twins cooed. Karen looked up, smiled, and said, "Thanks. What are you lot doing?"

"Voting on which house has the best tree," Charlie said. He shook his head, "So far, I'm afraid Hufflepuff isn't going to measure up."

"We haven't seen it yet!"

"We have," Arthur said sourly. "It doesn't."

* * *

Hufflepuff's was a live tree, somehow planted in the common room floor. It towered through the ceiling, decorated with berries and ferns, something that reminded Mattie of Poison Ivy. It was pretty in an 'au natural' style, but didn't have the warmth of Ravenclaw or the icy perfection of Slytherin. **_

* * *

Wednesday, December 1, 1999:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister of Education's office: 07:28  
_**

* * *

"Oh, Minister Weasley, thank Merlin you're here!" the secretary sobbed, jumping up to hug the young man. 

"Thank you, Betty, but I wasn't gone that long," he awkwardly patted her on the back. "Please get me a nice cuppa and send Edward in, would you?"

"You… you don't know?"

"Know what? Owls haven't been able to get through the storms the last few days. What's happened?"

"Minister…Minister Hansen is _dead_!" Betty broke down in a fresh spate of tears, while Percy Weasley sat heavily in a wooden chair, umbrella in one hand, hat in the other, and stared at nothing.

**_

* * *

Wednesday, December 1, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:11  
_**

* * *

"It is inexcusable, Albus!" Minerva said, slapping the table. "You were going to try to out-talk politicians while they planned to kill werewolves? Including our students?" 

"It is a good thing the Pimpernel happened by," Harry said.

Albus raised his hands, "I am sorry, so very sorry for misjudging the situation. I never for a moment believed Cornelius Fudge would sanction wholesale murder." He sighed, "_Mea Culpa, Mea Maxima Culpa,_" resting his face in his hands.

"What of Miss Hansen?" Severus inquired.

"Miss Leeds is retaining her wand until she is convinced she is no longer a threat to herself," Minerva said. "Please bear that in mind regarding her instruction and homework, hmm?" Heads nodded, and Minerva continued, "I would mention that until the Ministry dunderheads release her father's estate, she is both homeless and penniless. You might wish to add her to your Christmas lists, the poor dear needs _everything_." Heads nodded again, as Minerva thought of the strange envelope that had come to her via Gringott's owl, addressed to Felicia but marked 'Do not open until December 25th'. It had been sealed in red wax, with a small flower imprint.

_

* * *

To: Lee Fook (Hogwarts)  
From: Mom  
Date: December 1, 1999  
Subject: Christmas visit! _

_Hi, honey! _

_I hope things are going well for you, and that you're studying hard. I was very pleased with the last note from Professor Snape. He did say you needed to work harder on your spellcasting, but that overall you were doing well, and that it was typical for muggleborn students. I know that you're in a study group, so I know you'll pull those marks up to where we both know you belong. _

_Just looking at that last paragraph, who would have known a year, or even six months ago, we would be discussing your grades in spellcasting?Here I thought you'd be off to one of the city schools, where the closest you come to witchcraft is discussing the Salem witch trials. Who would have known you were a witch?_

_Don't forget that if you see the Morton fellow, he's not to know we're flying over with his family. There was apparently a snafu with his father's scheduling, but that's cleared up now. Barring weather delays, we should be getting into Inverness about five p.m. on the 21st. I don't know how long the drive is from the airport to Hogwarts, so I hope to have you in my arms by six! _

_I have lots of film, and I've found a wizarding photo shop in the East Village that can develop them! _

_Love,  
__Mom_

**_

* * *

Friday, December 3, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:31  
_**

* * *

"Better late than never," Lee said as she shook out the Reporter. Emma raised her eyebrow, mouth full of porridge, Lee explaining, "Fudge is taking credit for re-opening the floo network, 'With payment of a fifty-galleon annual home license, British wizarding transport is once again the fastest and safest in the world.'" she quoted. 

"Mmf," Emma replied, swallowing. "Bit rich, that license. Does it give a price for commercial connections?" Lee looked through the article; then shook her head, "Probably a lot more expensive, knowing our Minister." She pointed with her spoon, "Anything on the Hansen murder?"

"Um… Here we are. In the same press conference, Fudge says that 'It has the attention of our finest DMLE investigators.'" Lee snorted, "Good luck."


	15. Classes, Week Seventeen, Second Year

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

15 – Classes, Week Seventeen, Second Year

* * *

**_Sunday, December 19, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 09:11  
_**

* * *

The great hall was fairly quiet, students cramming for the last mid-term examinations. Mattie and Shaundra both reached for the coffeepot at the same time, only to look up and grin. Mattie released the handle, and leaned back, then forward. "You know, I never did congratulate you guys on your win," she said softly. 

"Thanks. Close-run thing, though. Thanks for the scouting report, although it might be nice to see the others."

"Ah, can't expect me to give away all my advantages," Mattie grinned. Shaundra made a face, and Mattie relented, "They come in a sealed envelope, and that's how I give them out."

"Drat."

"You shoulda heard what Karen said."

* * *

**_Monday, December 20, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potion lab: 08:50  
_**

* * *

A sign directed the second-years to a classroom on the third floor. Mattie gave a thumbs-up to Abby Michaels as she arrived for the NEWT potions midterm. She grinned in reply, as Mattie headed to Transfiguration.

* * *

"Use the gloves!" Mattie hissed to Felicia as she jerked away from the sickle. "Silver, remember?" She motioned with her head to Sprink, who had a pair of latex gloves on as she concentrated on transforming the coin into a small figurine. 

"Thank you, Miss Wayne," Professor McGonagall said out of the corner of her mouth as she walked by. Mattie grinned, closed her eyes and concentrated on changing her lump into something vaguely figure-like.

* * *

**_Monday, December 20, 1999:  
Columbus, Ohio, Morton home: 11:50 (GMT-5:00)  
_**

* * *

Momma Morton checked her list for what seemed like the thirty-seventh time. '_Laundry_,' she thought. '_Is all the laundry done?_' "Teela! The laundry?" 

"Three more shirts to iron, Mom!" her daughter called back. "We're out of dryer sheets!" Elena pulled her grocery list over and added _Dryer Sheets_ to it.

'_Beds made,_' she thought, then changed her mind, '_No, we need to nap for a few hours, then we'll make them._' She called upstairs, "Bill, Julia, do either of you want to finish the milk?"

* * *

**_Monday, December 20, 1999:  
Port Columbus international airport: 23:40 (GMT-5:00)  
_**

* * *

Bill Morton shook hands with Mr. Wayne's son and daughter in law, then they strapped in. He could hear the hiss of the air conditioner, and the muted whine of the engines. His son Bill Jr. was still looking around the cabin, mouth open. 

"Good evening," the cabin speaker said. "We'll be departing for New York as soon as we have clearance. The estimated flight time is forty minutes, at an altitude of 45,000 feet. Please keep your seat belts fastened until the sign is extinguished, and thank you for flying with us." It clicked off, and the cabin attendant spoke up, "My name is Holly, please let me know if there is anything I can do for you." She lowered her voice, adding, "I am a graduate of the Salem Institute, so I do know how to use a wand. The flight crew will not go aft of the forward head unless there's an emergency. You're going to Hogwarts?" Bill nodded, and she smiled as the engines spooled up.

* * *

The cabin speaker clicked on, the pilot saying, "I'd like to mention that on the port side of the aircraft, we have a Green Lantern flying formation and on the starboard side, we have Superman. This is only the second time I've seen him, I've never seen the young lady before." There was some background chatter, "I'm informed her name is Jade." Elena, who was sitting on the left side, frantically opened her window shade, to see a young woman in a white and green outfit waving from about thirty feet away. Green letters formed, spelling out, "Hi there! Safe flight?" Superman appeared beside and above Jade, saying something to her. Jade stuck out her tongue at Superman, the letters changing to an arrow with the words "Party pooper!" She waved again, and they pulled up and out of sight. Bill Jr. yawned, asking, "Did I miss anything?"

* * *

**_Tuesday, December 21, 1999:  
Inverness international airport: 16:40 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

With a screech and a thump, they touched down, rolling out to the private terminals. With a 'ding', the seat belt light went off, the cabin speaker coming on to say, "Welcome to Inverness, Scotland. We're a few minutes ahead of schedule; the local time is 4:40 in the afternoon, the temperature a frosty 34 degrees Fahrenheit. Wind chill puts that down at 26, so bundle up. We are waiting for Queen's Customs to board us. After that, the crew and I wish you a very Merry Christmas."

* * *

Sheila waited outside the Customs barrier as the sleek white jet dropped a ladder for the Customs officer, cradling her cup of hot coffee. After a few minutes, he departed, and people began to file off as a luggage cart pulled up to the jet. 

The Morton kids were happy and chattering as they filed out to the rental parking. Sheila used two fingers to whistle, "Listen up. Arthur has no idea you guys are coming. There are a few things to mention, though. First, this is a school, they are finishing off midterms. Secondly, I want everyone to take one of these charms and put it next to your skin." She handed a box around, adding, "This will nullify the anti-muggle charms around the school, allowing you to see it. If you're not wearing it, all you'll see is a decrepit old ruin." She checked her watch, "It's about a twenty minute drive around the loch. We'll stop briefly in the village of Hogsmeade for you to shoot some photos; the castle is really quite spectacular at night. The students should just be going in to dinner. Dick, which van do you want to drive?"

"I can drive," Bill Morton said quietly, and Sheila smiled, "Yes, but Dick and I have driven there several times. The path is not marked and is very easy to miss."

Dick smiled, "Don't worry, I'm a cop." Bill smiled; then tossed him the keys.

* * *

"I would have missed that," Bill Morton admitted quietly as the van pulled off to the shoulder. He looked through the windshield, "Is that it?" 

"That's it. Hogwarts," Dick called to the back of the van, "Five minute photo stop!" He pulled out his cell phone, "Mattie? We're in Hogsmeade, five minute photo stop. See ya in ten."

* * *

In the Great Hall, Mattie put her phone away, flashing ten fingers to Charlie and the twins. She got her book bag, grinning at Professor Sprout at the Head Table and flashing ten fingers. Lee put her phone away, and joined Mattie as she casually walked out, book bags over their shoulders. The Cortez twins followed them out, while Pomona Sprout vanished through a side door. 

The vans halted on the gravel, headlights out. Mattie stepped out of the darkness to give a hug, then saying, "Welcome to Hogwarts. This is Professor Sprout, Arthur's head of house. Did you have any problems?"

Bill Morton said, "No, not really. This place is fantastic!"

* * *

The twins and Lee vanished with their parents, while Mattie, Charlie and Professor Sprout shepherded the Mortons to Arthur's dorm, Mrs. Morton tisk'ing about the slovenliness her son lived in. Mattie whispered to Elena, "I'm glad she's not inspecting _my_ dorm!" Elena giggled, and Mattie waved and departed.

* * *

"Geez, Charlie, what's wrong? Charms is our last exam, and you lose your book!" Arthur complained as he opened the door. 

"**_SURPRISE_**!"

"Happy Christmas, mate!" Charlie said as he slapped Arthur on the back. "By the by, Mattie's got my Charms text. Study hard!" He waved and closed the door on a flabbergasted Arthur.

* * *

"Mom, do you want to bunk with us, or in the suite the Headmaster arranged?" Lee asked. 

"I'd like to stay with you, honey, and I'm Julie," she said to the other girls, adding to Sprink, "Are you all right? You don't look too well, dear."

"Full moon tomorrow night," Sprink said. "I'll be fine, thanks." Julie blinked, and Sprink grinned and held out her hand, "Your friendly neighborhood werewolf, pleased, I'm sure."

Lee clapped her hands, calling "Cindy?" The house elf popped in, Julie letting out a little 'eep!' of surprise, Lee telling her, "Cindy, this is my mom; she'll be staying here instead of the suite." Cindy popped out, Lee explaining, "House elf."

* * *

**_Wednesday, December 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 07:16  
_**

* * *

Arthur grumbled to himself before leaving his dorm for his family's suite, "What does she think she is, a cruise director?" 

_To: All Hogwarts  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 22 December 1999 07:05:13  
Subject: Scratch Quidditch? _

_Anyone up for a scratch Quidditch match after exams and before dinner today? _

_To: All Hogwarts  
From: Albus Dumbledore  
Date: 22 December 1999 07:06:15  
Subject: Re: Scratch Quidditch? _

_That sounds delightful.  
>Anyone up for a scratch Quidditch match after exams and before dinner today? _

_To: All Hogwarts  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 22 December 1999 07:08:44  
Subject: Re 2: Scratch Quidditch? _

_You know I'm always interested in Quidditch.  
>That sounds delightful.  
>>Anyone up for a scratch Quidditch match after exams and before dinner today? _

_To: All Hogwarts  
From: Harry Potter  
Date: 22 December 1999 07:10:33  
Subject: Re 3: Scratch Quidditch? _

_Draco just floated in, shall I ask him and the other ghosts to referee?  
>You know I'm always interested in Quidditch.  
>>That sounds delightful.  
>>>Anyone up for a scratch Quidditch match after exams and before dinner today? _

_To: All Hogwarts  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 22 December 1999 07:12:56  
Subject: Re 4: Scratch Quidditch? _

_The Baron says that he's interested, it's been centuries since he's played.  
>Draco just floated in, shall I ask him and the other ghosts to referee?  
>>You know I'm always interested in Quidditch.  
>>>That sounds delightful.  
>>>>Anyone up for a scratch Quidditch match after exams and before dinner today? _

* * *

Arthur gave the password to the suite his family was using (_Mars Bars_), his Mother immediately noticing his pique. "What's wrong, dear?" 

"Mattie thinks she's a cruise director," he grumbled, passing over the email printout.

"I think that's very nice, dear," his mother said as Bill Sr. came in; "I can't find an outlet for my razor."

Arthur grinned, drawing his wand. "Around here, most guys use a shaving charm, while the girls use a potion. Have a seat dad. Mom, if you call Henry, I'll do him too."

* * *

"Oh, my," Bill Sr. said as he felt his chin. "That's the best shave I've had in years." 

"Fastest, too," Arthur said as he moved his wand over his brother's face. "I don't have any of the potions the girls use. Sorry, Becky," He stepped back; then asked, "Breakfast in here, or the Great Hall?"

"The Great Hall!" Julie said, her mother adding, "They're in exams, so I expect you to be quiet!"

* * *

"Post's here!" someone called, and everyone looked up. Julie asked, "Why are there bats over there?" 

"Wayne owns the Ballycastle Bats Quidditch team," Eleanor said. "She gets mail from them by bat." She pointed up, "You can tell which house is which by the banners. That's the Slytherin table, with the green and silver, then Ravenclaw with blue and bronze, we're Hufflepuff with yellow and black," She nodded her head, "Behind us is Gryffindor with red and gold." She smiled, "When are you coming?"

Julie pouted, "Not till next year. _I can't wait!_"

"Sounds like a Ravenclaw to me," a fellow said from Gryffindor. He turned around and offered his hand to Julie, "Harry Spencer. I'll be a fifth year when you start. You lot going to the scratch game?"

"Looking forward to it, after Potions exam," Eleanor said.

Stephanie folded down the Reporter, asking, "Anyone see the Pimpernel's letter in the Prophet?"

"Ministry propaganda rag," someone muttered, and another asked, "Read it, please."

Stephanie cleared her throat and read:

_My fellow witches and wizards:  
The Fudge ministry has decided to attack my character with their propaganda. I feel I must set the record straight, and say here and now I had nothing to do, and no knowledge of, the murder of Deputy Minister Edward Hansen. _

_My mission is one of justice. I acted to preserve the life and liberty of the unfortunate captive werewolves which the Fudge Ministry had planned to murder for the purpose of robbing their gold. I will not repeat that sorry information, you have read it for yourself. Those persons are safe, their families have been notified. If you know one or more of these individuals, you know what I say is true. _

_I will close with this simple note. I have sent identical letters with my flower to the Daily Prophet and the Wizarding Reporter. You may determine for yourself the veracity of each newspaper by determining which this letter appears in. _

_The Pimpernel_

She cleared her throat, adding, "There's an editorial note,"

_To the readers of the Wizarding Reporter: _

_We normally verify the identities of all correspondents. However, for their own reasons, the above individual wishes to keep their identity a secret. The flower enclosed matches those found at both the Ministry's DMLE holding cells, and in the cages erected by the Ministry in Diagon Alley. They are available for public inspection, as is the original letter, at our offices. _

_Lois Lane,  
Managing Editor _

* * *

Mattie danced into the Morton's suite, pulling Bill Jr. from his chair and twirling him around. Teela asked, "You're all in a good mood," and Arthur grinned, "Cheering charms were the last part of the exam, and we don't want to cancel them." 

"Quidditch now, Quidditch now!" Sprink sang as she joined Mattie and Bill in their dance.

"Is that what you normally wear for Quidditch?" Henry asked, "I don't think I'd look too good in a skirt."

"We can fix that, Henry," Mattie grinned, pulling her wand. "Arthur, don't you want another sister?" There was a knock on the door, Henry escaping to answer it.

Charlie poked his head in, "Oh, charm's still on?"

"Yes, and they're threatening to make me wear a skirt!" Henry said.

"Can't have that, mate. '_Finite Incantatem_'!"

Mattie, Arthur and Sprink instantly sobered, Teela saying, "Good thing I had my camera."

* * *

Sprink knocked on the door, Julie opening it and asking, "Those are real brooms?" 

"Sure are," Sprink said. "This is a Nimbus 2000, Mattie's got a Firebolt II."

"That's what you wear for Quidditch?" Henry asked. "No skirts?"

"No skirts, Henry. Sorry about that," Mattie said with a grin. "These are our Slytherin team uniforms. Put something warm on, it's cold out there."

Julie was running her hand over the oak handle. "Can I…"

Mattie looked at Mrs. Morton, who nodded. "Why don't you and your brother Bill go put something warm on?"

* * *

"Right-o, mates," Sprink said in the corridor. "Hold your hand over the broom, and tell it 'UP'." 

Bill held his hand over Mattie's broom and said, "UP!" The broom rose, smacking his hand, while Sprink's broom smacked Julie's hand. Mattie mounted the broom, pulling Bill on ahead of her and kicking off gently. His eyes were round as she grinned, "Ready to fly?"

"Oh, YEAH!"

Mattie waved, "See you at the pitch!" and dove off the balcony. "YeeeHaaa!"

* * *

Mattie and Bill floated, Bill looking down. "Gosh, they look so small." 

"We're about a hundred fifty feet up, you see the players at the pitch?" Mattie said. "We'll do a flying lesson in a minute, but do you see that tree?" Mattie pointed at the Whomping Willow, whose branches were swaying. "Stay far away from it; it will try to cave your skull in." She waved at Sprink, who called, "She's a natural!"

"You can't let your sister get away with that, can you?" Bill shook his head. "Okay, flying is simple," Mattie said as she demonstrated, "Lean forward to accelerate, back to brake. Point the broom where you want to go; lean in the direction you want to turn. I'm here if you get in trouble." She let go of the broom, and Bill hesitantly put his hands on it. "That's right," Bill leaned forward, and the broom shot forward, Mattie shouting, "Turn!"

* * *

"You're good," Mattie said, ruffling Bill's hair as they stopped outside the pitch. Sprink pulled up alongside, floating about two hundred feet up. "They're both good," she added, "I can't wait until they can play." Bill looked at his sister, floating in midair ten feet away, and said, "Neither can we." 

The four of them floated to the ground (wobbling a bit), Mattie and Sprink smiling happily. Mattie stood, nudging Bill and saying, "I need to give your brother a ride. I owe him one."

"Awww…" Bill said as he got off, Henry looking pleased. "C'mon, Henry, I said Quidditch was like basketball? See for yourself, get on behind me." Teela got on behind Sprink, and they kicked off.

"You didn't think that we were really going to … you know?" Mattie asked.

"Well, no, but you did look awfully cute, dancing around in that little skirt," Henry said. She twisted around and frowned at him, "Just because I let you hold me does not mean anything, Mr. Morton. I don't want you to fall off."

"Okay, okay!" He grinned, and she did too. "What's going on?"

"It's a scratch game, normally there wouldn't be this many playing," she said. "You can see team uniforms from all four houses. The chasers are the ones tossing the red Quaffle back and forth, the Beaters like Sprink are the ones that have those flat bats, they look like cricket bats. They knock those black iron balls around, that's the Bludgers."

"Confusing, and that's gotta hurt." Henry pointed at one player who was spiraling down, clutching his right arm.

"Hopefully it's a clean break," Mattie said. "Madame Pomfrey will get him fixed up in no time." She twisted around to look back at Henry, "You don't have to wear a plaster cast for months, a wave of the wand and it's good as new."

"That's cool." He looked at the player being helped off the pitch, "You were saying?"

"Think in three dimensions, and with a couple extra players, it's a bit like basketball." She motioned, "You've got passing, scoring, penalties and defense. Harry Spencer, the fellow Bill said Julie talked to this morning? He's in red." She pointed at one of the goals, and she continued, "He's good enough to play professionally if he wants. He's a fourth-year, so I'll give him the chance in a couple years. Otherwise, he's stuck in the family business, poor guy."

"What's his family business?"

She twisted to look at him, "Arthur didn't tell you guys?" Henry shook his head, Mattie saying, "If anything, he's got it worse than I do. The name 'Spencer' doesn't mean anything to you?"

"Should it?"

"If you read the papers it should. Please don't freak out about this, he deserves a chance." Henry nodded, and Mattie chewed her lip, finally adding, "His grandmother's the Queen."

Henry sat quietly, asking, "The Queen? As in the Queen of England? He's like, fifth in line?"

"Third, I think. Yeah, that sucks, doesn't it? No chance to be a regular guy, except when he's in school. He mentioned once that Hogwarts rescued him from hell at Eton. You remember what happened to his mum in Paris? Life in a fishbowl."

"You look at the tabloids, and you think, 'Must be nice…'," Henry said, "Then you meet someone like…"

"…Like me?" Mattie asked. "Please be honest, Henry. Do you think my family's a bunch of pretentious snobs?"

"No, no I don't!" Henry said. "You're real. I can see asking you out in a couple years, or rather, Arthur, if he gets that stick out of his butt."

Mattie giggled; then looked around. "Between you and I only, Henry, promise you won't tell anyone else?" Henry crossed his heart and zipped his lips, throwing the key away. "Dick told me how your dad suddenly got the time off to come. Want the story?"

"Sure, I was wondering," Mattie looked around again; then said, "Dad went a round in the ring with one of the guys on the dock. One of the teamsters, he's a former state middleweight champ. Then he mentioned your dad over a drink, and the champ made a call or two, and here you all are." She leaned back to look at him, "You guys are worth a bruise or two to us. If Arthur was someone else, I would have slugged him long ago."

* * *

**_Wednesday, December 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Potions laboratory: 16:06  
_**

* * *

Mattie arrived with Sprink's arm draped over her shoulder. Guiding her to a seat, she glanced up as a pale Felicia was escorted in by Amanda and Professor McGonagall. Rows of bubbling cauldrons held wolfsbane potion, with a few seventh-years tending them. Professor Snape looked up, calling, "Miss Hansen, a minute of your time," as he strode over to them. 

"First time you transform, you can't use potion," Amy said as she took a seat. "You have to give blood and saliva samples so the potion can be adjusted for you. With everything else the poor girl's going through, this is going to be a rough night for her."

"At least we're alive," Jeremy said, knocking on the scarred wooden desk, "Thanks to the Pimpernel."

* * *

**_Wednesday, December 22, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Morton suite: 16:46  
_**

* * *

"Are Mattie and Sprink meeting us for dinner?" Teela asked, sketchpad in hand. 

"Err, not tonight," Arthur replied. "It's a full moon, remember? Sprink's transforming, so Mattie's with her."

"Oh, cool!" Elena said. "Can we watch?"

"**_NO_**!" Arthur shouted. Elena looked hurt, and he relented, "I've seen them once, and if I have to, I'll do it again. It's a very embarrassing ordeal, extremely painful, and they are very dangerous." He shook a finger at his older sister, "I know you, Elena Morton. You'd want to pet them, but they would be either trying to Bite you, or rip you apart. You might be better off if they ripped you to shreds, then you wouldn't have to spend every full moon for the rest of your life chained in the basement."

"So… what does Mattie do?" Teela asked quietly.

"She sits outside the cell they're locked in with a gun in her hand, in case her best friend escapes. She'd have to kill Sprink with a silver bullet if that happened. Otherwise, she listens to them howl in agony as they transform." He looked at Elena, adding, "Like one of us would have to do if Elena was bitten."

* * *

**_Thursday, December 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 06:36  
_**

* * *

"G'won, go!" Tonks told Mattie quietly as she looked down on her sleeping sister. "You've got a long flight back to the States. I'll tell her I bullied you off." She smiled, adding, "Sprink's lucky to have as good a mate as you." 

"'Kay," Mattie said reluctantly, passing Sprink's wand to her sister. Tonks took her by the shoulders, turned her in the direction of the doors, and gave a gentle push.

* * *

Mattie yawned as she entered the Great Hall, to find the remaining people sitting at one common table. She took an empty seat, "Good morning, everyone. Pass the coffee, please." 

"Here you go, and good morning, Mattie. Up late last night?"

"With a sick friend," Mattie replied, "What are you doing here Jennie?"

"Dick over there said you needed a bit of help, and John wasn't available," she shrugged, sipping her coffee. "I just got back and got his message."

"You mean there's something Mattie isn't already expert in?" Henry said, before Mattie bounced a muffin off his head.

"See if I ever take you flying again wise guy," Mattie retorted before returning her attention to her morning caffeine fix.

"Are you a witch too?" Elena asked, not recognizing Jennie from the flight to Scotland.

"No," Jennie replied, "but I do have some experience with magic; and Dick thought I might be able to help."

The question "With what?" ran through several minds of the people eating breakfast. Arthur quickly said, "Anything that can help Mattie with her Transfiguration is worth it."

Jennie gave Arthur an odd look before saying, "Uh, yeah."

Minerva rescued her by saying, "Before you depart, I would like to see the Cortez twins, Mr. Morton and your sister, Mr. Adams and Miss Wayne." She smiled faintly at their questioning looks, "Merely a bit of paperwork. You will need to select electives to be chosen at the beginning of April. This merely allows your families to have some input." She favored Julie with a look, "As for you, Miss Morton, should you decide to join your brother here in September, this will allow me to get ahead of my competition at the Salem Institute. You may examine the list of school supplies, and if you so choose, pre-order them on your visit to London."

* * *

"Can this day get any weirder?" Mattie asked herself, calling, "Charlie! Wait a minute!" She hurried up to him, asking, "When you go to Diagon Alley, could you have all of them tested at Ollivander's? Over the summer, the youngest, Bill, didn't have a reaction to my wand, but he was able to call a broom. If they need funds, use this letter of credit. Any questions, ask Griplink at Gringotts." 

"Arthur won't like that," Charlie said, accepting the letter of credit Mattie passed him.

"Call it a Christmas present, then. He can pay for the wand holsters, if he wants." She grinned, adding, "Get one for yourself, too, for your trouble."

"No worries, mate," Charlie grinned, saying softly, "Ms. Pimpernel."

* * *


	16. Interlude Three, Second Year

* * *

For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1

* * *

16 – Interlude Three, Second Year

* * *

**_Thursday, December 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall's office: 09:11  
_**

* * *

Minerva ushered the six teenagers into her office, saying, "Normally, your head of house would do this for you. However, Pomona and Severus are otherwise occupied today. I shall visit Miss Tonks and Miss Hansen in the Infirmary later." Julie looked at her brother; he gave her an 'I'll explain later,' look. 

"As you are aware, second-years must choose three elective courses by Easter. ONLY three courses," Minerva favored the twins with a 'look', which they blandly returned. "Do not think that you can try to fool us, we can tell you two apart." They smiled, and Minerva added, "The headmaster has agreed to teach Alchemy again, Miss Wayne, although it will be for all the students that have requested it. Are you ready for a class with the upper-years?" Mattie nodded.

"Very well then, one packet for each of you," Minerva said. "It contains course description; materials needed, and suggested references. I understand you three are going by London and Diagon Alley?" she asked of Arthur, Charlie and Julie, who nodded. "I trust you to use your discretion with your magic. The instructors, with the exception of Professor Carstair's muggle studies, have also updated and included Maginet information into their course information." She gave them another look, adding, "Whilst you all come from a muggle background, you may consider that course an 'easy O'. Rest assured, it is not."

"As for you, Miss Morton, you have an unusual opportunity to visit the school before you make your decision, make the most of it. I should hope we compare favorably with our counterparts in Boston. I might suggest you speak to some of the ghosts, although I would beware of Peeves."

* * *

**_Thursday, December 23, 1999:  
Scotland, A96 roundabout: 09:56  
_**

* * *

With a beep of the horn, the other white van turned for the airport, Bill Morton watching for the turnoff to the A9 motorway. With a sigh, he relaxed, Momma Morton saying "Stay on this for the next hundred miles," she turned, asking her son, "Now Arthur, you haven't been saying too much in your emails. What's been happening lately, and who's this Pimpernel person that people were discussing?" 

Charlie grinned, patting his housemate on the back, and pulling out a cell phone. "Hello, Dad? Sorry we're running a bit late, we just turned onto the A9. I think we'll stop somewhere in Liverpool or Birmingham for a bite. Right-o, we'll see you in a few hours." Disconnecting, he said, "Ma'am, I don't know what Arthur's said, but it seems the British wizarding world has its first superhero, like the London Guardians or some of those blokes in the States."

"Nobody's even sure of the Pimpernel's gender or age," Arthur said. "The first time he was seen was when the Ministry tried to kill off some werewolves for their gold."

"Like Sprink?" Elena asked.

"Like Sprink, and our housemate Jeremy," Charlie said, "Or Amy in Ravenclaw, or Professor Harry's friend, Professor Lupin." He shrugged, "It doesn't make a whole lot of sense. Werewolves are not rich, there's a lot of discrimination. Why would Minister Fudge go after the bit of gold they've got?"

"It sounds like this Fudge guy is desperate for gold," Teela said, looking up from her sketchpad.

"The current theory that we've kicked 'round the table," Charlie said, "Is that Fudge got so used to taking Malfoy's bribes that he used them as a normal part of his budget. When that stopped, he had to scramble for funds, and he's funneled most of them into DMLE and the Aurors, so he can stay in power."

"A lot of kids in school have parents that work for the Ministry, or they did," Arthur added. "Fudge controls most of the judiciary, the Wizengamot, which is why he's still in power. They have to have a no-confidence vote before he can be kicked out, and elections held. Did you get the copies of the Reporter I sent you?"

"We haven't gotten anything but email from you for a couple months now," Henry said. "Packages go through the Ministry in London, don't they?"

"Which means Fudge is censoring the owl mail," Teela said, changing to a new page, her pencil darting. "D'you think Mattie would mind if you sent stuff to her Aunt Lois?"

"Maybe her Aunt Sheila, instead," Arthur said. "She's based out of London now, and can use the Royal Mail."

"We can ask," Charlie said. "Have you given any thought to your electives, mate? Arithmancy is one, I'll wager, and it doesn't hurt that Professor Vector's a babe."

"Oh, ho!" Henry said. "Which one was Vector?"

"She's the blonde, about thirty, in the light blue robes you were lusting after," Teela said, "Didn't you pay attention when we were introduced?" She snorted, "Boys!"

"Is he between girlfriends again?" Arthur asked his sisters.

"I'm allowed to look," Henry said.

"Just wait 'til I tell Misty you said that," Elena threatened.

* * *

**_Thursday, December 23, 1999:  
Scotland, A96 roundabout: 09:56  
_**

* * *

With a beep of the horn, the other white van turned for the A9 motorway, and Julie Fook asked, "Jennie, isn't it?" She nodded, and she asked, "You look very familiar. Would we have seen you day before yesterday? Maybe wearing a different outfit?" 

Babs snorted, and Dick muttered, "Busted!"

"What happened?" Lee asked.

"You're sitting behind a Green Lantern, dear," her mother said from beside her. "She flew escort with Superman on the flight over." She patted Jennie's shoulder, then sat back with a smile, "It wasn't the best idea to come to Hogwarts, dear. It raises all sorts of questions in my suspicious reporter's mind." Raising her hand, she added, "I can keep a secret, and I won't press for any sensitive information, for now, anyway." Grinning, she added, "What's the real reason you're visiting Miss Wayne? Somehow I doubt it's her Transfiguration skills."

"This is your fault, brother mine," Mattie said. "I told you I didn't want one, but you got one for me anyway." Babs snorted back a laugh, as Mattie twisted in her seat to tell Mrs. Fook, "Last year, I was kidnapped twice. My loving brother, who is ignoring the question by driving, somehow got me a power ring." She waved her right hand, "I can't fault his motivations, but it's been a major pain-in-the-butt. When I kvetched about not knowing how to use it, he got hold of Jennie here somehow." She shot Jennie a look, adding, "I expected a call or an email first, though. Not for you to drop out of a clear blue sky."

"Sorry. My bad," Jennie said.

"Well, it's done. It's not like I ever wanted to play superhero," Mattie said with a straight face as Jennie coughed into her fist. Lee leaned forward to thump her back, asking, "So, what did McGonagall want to tell you?".

* * *

**_Thursday, December 23, 1999:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 16:16  
_**

* * *

Sprink nudged Felicia, asking, "You planning on sleeping all day?" 

"Five more minutes…"

"D'you wanna sleep the rest of your life away? C'mon, get up, McGonagall wants to see you."

"McGonagall? I miss class, 'manda?"

"Not Amanda, and you're not late for class." Felicia mumbled and rolled over, Sprink saying, "For your own good, now!" She waved her wand, '_Aqueous Frigidus_!' Felicia shrieked and leapt out of bed, glaring at Sprink, who grinned, "Got you up!" She pointed, telling Felicia, "Get a shower, 'manda left you some clothes. I let you sleep in, but McGonagall wants to see you."

"What about?"

Sprink shrugged, "Dunno. Shower. March!"

* * *

**_Friday, December 24, 1999:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 21:16  
_**

* * *

"Bill! Charlie!" Harry shook their hands, and backs were thumped. "Mum! Dad!" they called, embracing their parents. With a 'pop', Dobby appeared with a tray of drinks as Charlie enlarged his presents.

* * *

"So what are your plans, Harry?" George asked, proudly wearing his new Weasley sweater. 

"After a properly somber Christmas day without our parents, we're going to visit Dean Thomas' rellies in the States," he answered, Ginny cradling her belly and interjecting, "Before this little bugger decides to make his appearance."

"I've heard they've got a place called the 'Magic Kingdom' in Florida," Harry added. "Well, we couldn't resist." He grinned at Percy's look of confusion, adding, "It's like Alton Towers, only larger. Then, a trip to Key West to lie on the beach, because Florida's like summer all year long there!"

* * *

**_Sunday, December 26, 1999:  
New York City, Greenwich Village, Thomas apartment: 11:06 (GMT -5)  
_**

* * *

"Dean!" Ginny gave the fellow a (careful) hug, asking, "What are you doing over here?" 

"I'm the new American correspondent for the Wizarding Reporter," he replied proudly. "Besides, I always wanted to visit the Colonies. This is my cousin Marissa, she's been kind enough to put me up."

"How could I turn down my own relatives, especially since he's a genuine wizard?" she replied. "So, you know each other from school?"

"Yes, seven years," Dean said, passing around drinks. "My only question is why didn't you apparate?"

"Pomfrey forbid me," Ginny said. "I had to do it once, and she found out and gave me a talking-to. Fudge hasn't re-instated the international floo network, so for now, we use portkeys. That reminds me, do you have a wizarding atlas? I'd like to see Gotham on the way to Florida."

Marissa stopped cold. "Why on earth would you want to visit there? Go north to Harlem; they'll cut your throat just as quickly."

Harry looked at Ginny, who looked stubborn. "One of my students is from Gotham, Ginny's been fascinated by the city for the last year and a half."

"He must be three hundred pounds of mean, then."

"_She_'s a second-year, about four-ten, and maybe 100 pounds."

"Ginny," Marissa said, sitting next to the redhead, "They don't call Gotham 'The city of nightmares' for nothin'. You'll see advertisin' for that place, it can be a wonderful town, but it's also the most dangerous city on the east coast. There are two million crazies livin' on that island there, every single one of 'em cut you up one side an' down the other before you get your wand out. My advice to you is to _skip Gotham_. Go directly to Florida, do not pass Go, do not collect your headstone, girl."

Ginny looked stubborn, and Marissa sighed. "We'll go to the Village after lunch. Dean's found a wizarding bookstore; they should have your atlas. It's your funeral, girl."

* * *

"You sure you won't change your mind?" Marissa said. "That atlas wasn't that current." 

"I'm sure," Ginny said. "After all, they're muggles, and we're wizards. What could possibly go wrong?" She smiled, and touched the portkey to activate it.

"Oh, god," Marissa said. "They're dead."

"Hopefully not," Dean said. "I emailed Professor McGonagall; she said she knew people in Gotham. Still…"

* * *

**_Sunday, December 26, 1999:  
Gotham City, Miracle Mile, alley behind the Double Take Theatre: 19:32  
_**

* * *

With a 'pop', Harry and Ginny materialized outside the old theatre. Seeing the bright lights a few blocks away, Harry said, "It looks like the atlas was a bit off. Shall we go?" 

"Let's!" Ginny smiled, and walked with her husband.

A few blocks further on, someone whispered, "Hey, you! Yeah, you two! Interested in a good deal?"

"What kind of deal, mate?"

"A good deal. C'mere, in here." An M-16 appeared, and the figure said, "We insist."

Harry and Ginny edged inside, the gang member asking Ginny, "Well, hello there sweet cheeks. What brings you two tourists to our fair city?"

"We … got off the wrong trolley, sorry, mate. We'll just be going now," Harry said, eyeing the M-16 he carried as he reached for his wand.

"But you haven't seen the sights, and you'll have to pay our toll," the gang member said, "We can't have you ducking your taxes now, can we?" He motioned, "Give me what you're reaching for; dude, or the pregger gets a burst through her nostril. That would just _ruin_ her whole day." There was laughter behind them as the safety was loudly snicked off. Harry was turned, pushed against a filthy brick wall as he was searched, a shotgun to his head.

"No guns, dude, just these sticks on 'em," one ganger reported, brandishing their wands, adding, "I can't find his wallet, either."

"Well, now, you should have known better than to cross our turf without toll money," the gang leader said, swaggering in. "How are you gonna pay, dude? Why don't we just take your woman, your little candy ass we'll sell off to the Conchitas. They like wimpy ass white boys to use as their slaves. Remember those four college kids last week?" Loud laughter, when the leader flipped out a blade. "Now, just so you don' think our hospitality is lackin', we'll invite you to a barbecue. We got some real tasty meat, right here." He turned and cut Ginny's blouse, revealing her very pregnant belly.

"**_NOOOO!_**" Ginny screamed, crouching as a splash of amniotic fluid hit the pavement. "Oh, shit!" a gang member screamed in fear, "**_IT'S THE BAT!_**"; firing at full auto at a shape occluding the moon. Every other gun started firing as chaos and darkness erupted in the alley.

Screams, shouts and automatic fire criss-crossed the alley as Harry sprinted to Ginny, dragging her behind some dustbins and covering her with his body. He grunted; then as the firing died down, they heard a voice of gravel. "You can come out now."

"Felipe, shame on you for slicing up a pregnant woman," Ginny heard a young woman say, holding the gang leader by the throat. "I guess that makes you a big man in Blackgate. Coward." She flung him headfirst at a large steel dumpster, where his head banged and he lay still. She flickered, night in motion as she crouched down next to them, asking, "You two OK?"

"I think I was hit, my right leg," Harry said, rolling off Ginny and struggling to sit up. Black-gauntleted hands checked, grunting, "Calf wound. It will leave a scar. Paramedics are on the way. What about you, miss?"

"My water broke," Ginny said.

"Paramedics and cops are two minutes out," the gravel voice said. "They've been updated. Can you two survive that long?"

Harry glanced at Ginny; then said, "I think so. What about our property?"

The voice of gravel said, "Behave yourselves, and we'll talk later. We'll return your wands then." Soundlessly, they vanished, as Harry and Ginny looked at each other, sitting against the brick wall in the moonlight, listening to the sirens, and watching the lights of police cars illuminate the scene.

"Well, what do we have here?" one sergeant said, holstering his sidearm. "Los Lobos all laid out neat as you please, and even two tourists to press charges." He glanced at Harry's wound, "A nice little through-and-through. It looks like you made the acquaintance of the Bat." He chuckled, adding, "Welcome to Gotham City."

* * *

_To: Minerva McGonagall  
From: oraclesecure AT oraclesecure net  
Date: December 26, 1999 19:48:03  
Subject: Potters _

_Both subjects in hospital with minor injuries. _

_  
To: Dean Thomas  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: December 26, 1999 19:50:05  
Subject: FW: Potters  
_

_Thank you for that timely warning, Mr. Thomas. As you can see, I am informed that both are in a Gotham hospital with only minor injuries. _

_> Both subjects in hospital with minor injuries.  
_

_Minerva_

* * *

**_Friday, December 31, 1999:  
Gotham City, Gotham General Hospital, room 314: 19:22  
_**

* * *

"Mrs. Potter, I'm afraid there's a bit of a problem with your account," the young nurse said as she entered the darkened room. "The British NHS is saying you don't exist." 

"I'm saying they do, Melanie," a voice graveled from the corner, Harry, Ginny and the nurse starting in surprise. A tall figure in black emerged from the shadows, passing the stunned nurse a card. "I'm covering the Potters."

"Oh, Batman! Of course," and she turned to go. He stopped her, passing her some folded bills with a card, "Give Mad Al a call at his shop. He's holding a flute for your son. Gotham needs more music. You can tell Peter I expect to hear him practicing." A ghost of a smile touched him, "The Potters are checking out, I have secure facilities arranged."

"How did you know my son's name…" she asked, as the door opened to a dark figure.

"He's Batman," she said, as she pushed a cart with two infants, adding, "You're checking out." Turning to the dazed nurse, she reminded her, "Don't forget the birth certificates."

* * *

"This is where they said to meet, but…" Melanie said; when the thrum of powerful engines was heard. A low-slung black creation appeared, followed by a black motorcycle. The rider hopped off, her cape giving her the appearance of floating above the ground. Hatches hissed open, and Melanie said, "I think your ride's here."

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Gotham City, Batcave, medical bay: 05:00  
_**

* * *

"Good morning," the dark figure said as she came through the shimmering force screen. "I hope you're comfortable," she added. 

"Yes, quite," Harry replied. "We'd like to know what's going on, though." He added, "Miss Wayne."

"Who?"

"Miss Wayne, I've seen your magical aura once a week for the last year and a half," Harry said. "There are slight changes, due to your aging potion. If you're concerned about your secret, perhaps you should be aware that we owe you a Wizard's Debt for saving our lives."

"We'll carry your secret to our graves," Ginny added. The dark figure's head swiveled to look at her, "Strange you should say that." Ginny paled when the dark figure added, "We have quite a bit of evidence regarding the Hansen murder. We aren't as clueless as some in London."

"Ginny?"

"Later, Harry." Ginny took a breath, asking, "What do you want?"

"For the moment, your silence. Whatever assistance you can give your housemate Felicia would be appreciated. A show of Gryffindor solidarity, you understand." Ginny nodded, the dark figure continued, "Sonic shower through there. Clothing replicator is built in above, say aloud 'Body scanner on', then your name. Use the full range of motion to get a good fit. Tell the replicator 'Instructions', it will produce what you need. Food replicator is to the right, speak clearly. Batman will pick you up at 06:30 sharp for your trip to the airport. You'll be flying with Wayne and her friends back to Hogwarts. Don't be late."

She turned to leave, Harry called, "Wait, we need passports and whatnot." The dark figure reached under her cape, tossing an envelope to him. "Passports for the four of you, the twins' birth certificates, the police report and fifty pounds for expenses. Anything else?"

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Gotham International Airport, private terminal: 07:11 (GMT -5)  
_**

* * *

Harry and Ginny stepped out of the black car, Batman pulling away. "Professor Harry! Ginny! When did you get in town? We could have gone out or something," Mattie called, Bruce waving and joining them. 

Harry looked between Bruce and the vanished Batmobile; then he shook his head, "It was kind of a 'spur of the moment' thing. Hello, Mr. Wayne, Ms. Hawking."

Mattie was cooing over the babies when the pilot cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Mr. Wayne. We're going to have to depart shortly."

"Oh, right, right." He gave a hug to Mattie, shook Harry's hand, nodding to Ginny; then departed. The pilot looked at Harry and Ginny, asking, "I wasn't told about four additional passengers."

"They're from my school in Scotland, I guess they missed their flights back," Mattie said. "I'll take any heat for them being here."

"If you say so, Miss Wayne," the pilot replied, as the copilot shrugged and closed the hatch.

* * *

"I wish we'd known you were coming, we could have shown you some of the sights," Mattie grinned as the seatbelt light went off. "Well, we'll do that on your next visit, especially since the kids are Gothamites." 

"What d' you mean, Gothamites? I thought they were Americans," Harry asked.

"They're that, of course, but what's more important is Gotham. It's something that gets in you; in your blood, something that, well, you _want_ to, no, need is a better word. You _need_ to dance on the razor's edge in the moonlight. You _need_ to push past what people say is likely, or possible, or even impossible. You _need_ to not only push past those barriers, but shatter them." Mattie steepled her fingers, adding, "They can do that when they come home to Gotham."

"Not bloody likely," Ginny snorted; Mattie smiled.

Harry cast a privacy spell, "In any case, we must thank you for saving our lives."

"What do you mean?" Mattie asked.

"You, your father, the alleyway and all those guns," Harry said, as Sheila leaned forward.

Mattie's demeanor changed, "You're welcome," she said coolly. "You are aware that by coming to Gotham without notifying us in advance, you put not only your lives, but that of other people in jeopardy? We have a job to do; we don't have time to baby-sit every hero that wanders into town." With a cold look, she added, "That includes wizards."

"But how…" Ginny asked.

"Because you decided to play Little Miss Curious, other people's lives were risked. When you ignored protocol and came without letting me know, that was not only rude, but dangerous. Tell me, why didn't you apparate out?" Mattie looked at Harry, "Why didn't you change into your panther form?"

"I ... I didn't think of it."

Mattie snorted in disgust. "You froze. You could have used wandless magic to distract them, and been on top of the situation. You could have apparated Ginny straight up to the roof when Felipe was distracted. The guns were off you, Manuel and Jesus were scared about pointing a gun at Felipe. Instead, you froze. Why didn't you apparate?"

"Pomfrey forbid me from apparating for a month ..." Ginny said weakly.

"So instead of our saving a girl in Robinson Park from a serial rapist, you decided THIS time to follow Pomfrey's advice," Sheila said. She glared at Ginny; then added, "I got to her in time to save her life, but she'll be in a wheelchair. No magical potions for her, the sick bastard broke her back against a rock when he raped her. She was a fool to go there after dark, but she's still alive, unlike her male escort." She looked coldly at Harry, "You chose to ignore good advice and didn't sit on your wife when she got it in her head to visit. You knew this was a dangerous town, yet you came anyway. The next time either of you has a bright idea like this, think of that girl in the wheelchair." She twisted the knife a bit, adding, "With therapy and luck, she'll walk again, but her dance career is over."

"Oh, god, we didn't know," Harry said, burying his face in his hands. "I was just thinking about you and your father saving the lives of Ginny and I, as well as our children."

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Teterboro New Jersey, Teterboro airport: 07:54 (GMT-5)  
_**

* * *

"Lee! Shaundra! Roshawn! How are you guys? How was your Christmas?" Mattie called. 

"Excellent! We found these shops in the Village, and…" Lee stopped, asking, "Professor Harry, what are you doing here?"

"They decided to visit Gotham, and we have two new Gothamites in the world!" Mattie said happily.

"This is Sirius James Remus, and his big sister Molly Lilly Potter," Harry announced quietly as Sirius yawned.

"Come now, girls, buckle up," the copilot called. "We'll be taking off again as soon as we top off fuel and finish loading luggage."

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
London, Marlybone, (Adams house): 07:30 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

"Harrow Road west to the A5, then northwest to the M1," Mr. Adams said. "No bouncing about when you don't need to. Once you're on the M1, then Bob's your Uncle." 

"Right, thanks," Bill Sr. said, looking at the hand-drawn map and comparing it to his other ones. He shook hands again, then waved and started the van.

"Back to school," Charlie said with mock gloom. "I wonder how the Yanks did on their trip?"

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Scotland, Edinburgh: 16:10 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

"Feet dry," the copilot said, as the jet passed over Ireland. "About thirty minutes to landing, make sure your documents are ready for Customs." 

"Customs!" Harry said as he ripped open the envelope. "We don't have photos on these passports!" He glanced at his; asking, "How…?"

"We called the British ambassador," Sheila replied as she riffled through her briefcase. "They were overnighted to us after you lost yours." She passed over a pen, "Don't forget to sign them, and don't forget your kids' birth certificates."

Mattie was on the phone, "Hello, Charlie? We've just passed over the Irish coast, about thirty minutes until we land; and then we have to clear Customs. Where are you guys?" She put her hand over the mouthpiece, "They're north of Edinburgh. Where should we meet?"

"There are some pubs in the airport, and I could use a pint," Harry declared. "What about one of those?" Mattie nodded, and returned to the phone.

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Scotland, Edinburgh: 16:10 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

Charlie's mobile rang, "Hullo? Oy, Mattie! No, we had a grand time. We're just on the north side of Edinburgh, so maybe an hour to Inverness, where should we meet?" He put his mobile down, "They've just cleared the Irish coast, so thirty minutes plus customs. They suggest we meet in one of the airport's pubs." 

"Ah, fresh Guinness," Henry said, and his mum frowned as Charlie chuckled. "A pub sounds good. Give my mobile a ring when you're on the ground, so we can co-ordinate."

* * *

**_Saturday, January 1, 2000:  
Scotland, Inverness international airport: 16:47 (GMT)  
_**

* * *

Charlie's mobile rang. "Hullo? Oy, Mattie, we've just parked, we'll see you in a minute." He put it down, "They're in a pub called 'Loch's End'. Pub grub good with everyone?" They nodded, "We'll find some trolleys and see you in fifteen minutes or so."

* * *

Arthur saw them waving, and motioned his family that way. Teela squealed, and asked Ginny, "They're adorable! When were they born?" 

"Boxing Day, in Gotham," Harry said, looking at his fourth glass of whiskey. Ginny darted a glance at him as he threw it back, telling him "No more."

"The Bat gave us fifty pounds for expenses. This is an expense," Harry slurred. Elena stared at him as he put his head down, "You met the **_Bat_**? In Gotham?" she whispered.

"Remember what we said last year, Elena?" Mattie asked. "To meet the Bat, you're either _in_ trouble, or you _are_ trouble," she waved a hand, "This was the first case, they went where they shouldn't. The Bat called us, and we were more than happy to help."

"Two more Gothamites in Hogwarts," Lee said.

"Pardon me," a fellow said. "Did you say Hogwarts? I'm Leftenant Martin, Royal Marines. I was supposed to be met by Mr. Potter, I'm taking up a teaching position there."

Ginny lifted Harry's hand, "This is Mr. Potter, although he's in no shape to drive. What position will you be teaching?"

"Defense, the martial arts." People looked at Mattie, who raised her eyebrow.

"Ah, have you had a class or two? Excellent! I've a black belt, and you can be my assistant!" the leftenant said happily. Lee, the twins, Arthur and Henry started to cough, and backs were pounded.

Mattie smiled, "I've had a class or two. Nothing much though." More coughing.

"Well, we'll get you up to scratch. No worries." The leftenant paused, "How were you lot going to get to Hogwarts? I was never great shakes on a broom."

"We have a van," Sheila said. "You're welcome to join us, but we need to see some of this lot off to the States."

* * *

"Dobby!" Ginny called, and with a 'pop' the house-elf appeared. "Please take Harry and the twins to our flat. Do you know where the Headmaster is?" 

"Master Dumbledore is in his office, Mistress Wheezy," Dobby said, before popping out.

"Leftenant Martin, I'll introduce you to the Headmaster. Please come with me." The young leftenant strolled off after Ginny, and Lee asked Mattie, "Just how badly are you going to kick his butt?"

"I haven't decided yet," Mattie smirked. "It depends on how his first class goes; I might actually learn something from him."

"Oh, right," one of the twins snorted. "You kicked Malfoy and his Death Eaters' ass all by yourself. You're gonna let this stuck-up twit live?"

Her sister said, "Oooh, I've got a black belt! I'm hot stuff!" she also snorted, "I'm putting gold on you, Wayne."

"Now, now," Arthur cautioned, "Don't underestimate the Leftenant." The others laughed as they headed for their dorms, and Charlie called, "I'll run a pool on you, Mattie."

* * *


	17. Classes, Week Nineteen, Second Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
17 – Classes, Week Nineteen, Second Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potion Master's office: 07:11  
_**------------------------

Severus' email dinged, and he opened up the message.

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Kelly Bundy  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:09:48  
Subject: New instructor _

_I'll be setting up the new instructor's computer and accounts after lunch, so this is your last chance to gossip about him. When I met him last night in the Headmaster's office, he was alleged to be a martial artist – any books running on that contest with Miss Wayne?_

_Yawning,  
__Kelly_

Severus snorted, and clicked 'Reply All':

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:11:17  
Subject: Re: New instructor _

_Wagering on a contest between a student and an instructor? How unprofessional! _

_I am considering a book. However, given Miss Wayne's skills, I doubt there are any who would wager against her. The only real wager would be on how long she let him live. _

_Severus_

With a 'ding', a reply came in:

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:13:19  
Subject: Re 2: New instructor _

_I would wager a sickle on the Leftenant (whom I met last night), only out of Gryffindor loyalty. I presume you all know the 'spectatio' spell? How long do you think the contest might go on? _

_Minerva _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Harry Potter  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:15:23  
Subject: Re 3: New instructor _

_Harry's sleeping off too much muggle whiskey, we had a rather stressful holiday in __Gotham__City__ (yes, Miss Wayne's hometown). Given that, I would wager five galleons the Leftenant will be unconscious within five minutes, and will spend a week in the Infirmary. _

_Ginny  
(reading Harry's mail) _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:18:49  
Subject: Re 4: New instructor _

_You forgot to mention that he's an arrogant prat, Ginny. Three galleons on eight minutes, and ten days or three broken bones. _

_Minerva_

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Filius Flitwick  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:23:09  
Subject: Re 5: New instructor _

_Don't forget the 'audentia' argument to that spell, Minnie. Does anyone know where the contest will be held? It's a short-range spell. _

_I'm not as familiar with Miss Wayne's skills as some of you. However, I did see her 'workout' with her brother last year. (A most frightening thing THAT was! This is her recreation?) We must also remember her single-handed capture of Lucius Malfoy and his Death Eaters last year. As you know, Mr. Malfoy was no slouch when it came to fighting. _

_Given that, and with my discussions with last year's Quidditch team in mind, I'll wager ten galleons on a nice, round ten minutes (I think she'll play with him), and five broken bones. _

_Filius_

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Pomona Sprout  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:26:29  
Subject: Re 6: New instructor _

_Shame on all of us!_

_There. That's been said. Now then, four galleons on under five minutes, and a week (seven days, not five) with Poppy. _

_Same rules as Quidditch books, Severus?_

_Yawning,  
__Pommie _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:31:19  
Subject: Re 7: New instructor _

_Yes, same rules.__ I would like to mention that Miss Wayne has taken an oath not to kill, or as she put it once, 'I am no one's executioner.' The Leftenant's injuries will depend on his pride and how much he pisses her off. _

_That being said; I have also spoken with last year's Quidditch team. I will wager ten galleons on seven minutes, and two weeks with Poppy. The number of broken bones depends on the Leftenant. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Albus Dumbledore  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:34:39  
Subject: Re 8: New instructor _

_Having spoken with our new instructor, he will be using the defense classroom temporarily until other arrangements can be made. Pommie, might we impose on you for use of your gymnasium?_

_The Leftenant offered no reason for his delay other than 'Orders, sorry, guv.' Rather cheeky, I thought, but I'll reserve judgment, and I'll ask the rest of you to also. Give the boy a chance, now, he does have a black belt in the martial arts. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:37:01  
Subject: Re 9: New instructor _

_Albus, perhaps you are unaware of Miss Wayne's qualifications? She has not one, but SIX black belts in several different styles, and would have more except for rules restricting her to testing only every five years. _

_This is like asking a first year to duel you or Potter, Albus. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Harry Potter  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:41:29  
Subject: Re 10: New instructor _

_Severus, I mildly resent that. I've been working hard with my first-years. _

_Harry  
(the REAL Harry, Ginny having left for the shop) _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Poppy Pomfrey  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:45:39  
Subject: Re 11: New instructor _

_Did you take your hangover potion, Harry, and where are your babies?_

_Two galleons each from Narcissa and I; she wagers three minutes, I'm saying five. As we'll be taking care of the leftenant we won't wager on his injuries. _

_Harry, one cup of tea, then we want you to drink water all day. I've informed Dobby._

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Pomona Sprout  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:47:59  
Subject: Re 12: New instructor _

**_BABIES?__ WHAT BABIES? _**

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Harry Potter  
Date: 2 January, 2000 07:51:19  
Subject: Re 13: New instructor _

_Ginny gave birth on Boxing Day in __Gotham__. She's got the twins with her to show off at the shop, I'll fetch them at lunch. _

_Harry__  
(Dreading what Fred & George will do.) _

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000_****_:  
Hogsmeade, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes: _****_07:47_****_  
_**------------------------

Ginny let herself in the back, Ian waving at her from behind a cauldron. She cancelled the levitation spell, causing the twins' pram to sink to the floor. Ian called, "Y' had the wee bairns! When?"

"Boxing Day, in the States." She fussed with the nappies; then took the chair at the battered desk. "This is Sirius James Remus, and his big sister Molly Lilly Potter. Finish the potion, though."

"Jus' be another minute, then it cools f' an hour," Ian replied. He added some leaves, the potion turned vivid purple and banged, giving off green smoke. He looked at the clock, making a note on the clipboard; then setting a muggle kitchen timer. Pulling off his protective glasses, he washed his hands, then crouched down next to the pram, saying, "'lo, there, wee ones. I'm y' Uncle Ian." Molly reached up and grabbed his finger, pulling it toward her mouth. Ian chuckled, "As concerned w' food as your namesake Gran, y' are." Looking at Ginny, he asked, "How is y' parents?"

"They'll be happy to return home. Owls to Ireland are bloody expensive; I can't wait until we can get email here."

"Aye. 'Tis bloody pains in the arse to apparate to Inverness tae send mail. Too bad we cannae hop on Hogwarts' connection."

"Hmm. The way the Ministry's been cost-cutting, I'm surprised they still pay British Telecom for it." She glanced at Ian, then around the shop. "I wonder if we could hook it in here."

"In Aberdeen, they hae' places they call 'Internet Cafes'," Ian mused. "Pubs that y' can rent a machine f' an hour or two." He looked at Ginny, and identical grins spread across their faces.

"We do get a lot of muggle-born in here. Would it be in competition with; or maybe within the Three Broomsticks pub?" Ginny wondered.

"I've never run a pub," Ian confessed. He gently extracted his finger from Molly's grip; then said, "Number 44 next door on High Street is vacant. We've got a shipment ready for th' Diagon Alley shop, why don' y' talk to y' brothers when y' showin' off the bairns, an' maybe talk tae Tom a' the Cauldron? Mayhap he's a relative, or is interested in expandin' his business."

"Let's ask Lee, he's muggle-born. And he needs to properly admire my babies," Ginny said with a grin.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: _****_08:00_****_  
_**------------------------

"Ah, Leftenant, come in, come in! Welcome back to Hogwarts!" Albus called, levitating a tea set. "Minerva get your quarters all sorted out?"

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir," Leftenant Martin said.

"Have a bit of tea and sit down, we're not that formal. Now then, we have a weekly staff meeting Wednesday mornings at seven in the staff room off the ground floor. Pomona's house has cleaned up the gymnasium near the Hufflepuff common room, we've installed a makeshift dojo in there, and at least the walls and floor are padded. Miss Wayne has been teaching martial arts in there on Sunday afternoons."

"Teaching? I thought Mr. Potter was the defense instructor."

"He is," Albus replied.

"Well, I'm sure I'll get everyone up to scratch," the young leftenant said confidently.

Albus smiled, "Miss Wayne is uniquely suited to instruct this, she has the most experience with the martial arts." He stood, "Come, I'll show you about. By the by, the staff password for January is '_rainbow_'."

------------------------

"I never knew this was here," the leftenant admitted, looking through the windows at the gym. Inside, a few students worked out on the weights, while Arthur and Charlie were shooting baskets. He looked again, "Is this Miss Wayne inside?"

"I do not see her," Albus said, looking about. "However, two of her study group is here, perhaps they know."

------------------------

Albus smiled, "Good morning, Mr. Adams; Mr. Morton. This is our new instructor, Leftenant Martin of the Royal Marines. He'll be teaching Martial Arts and physical fitness."

Arthur and Charlie glanced at each other; then shot the ball at the Leftenant. He grinned; then tried a hook shot, which bounced off the rim. The ball bounced off toward the weight machines, where Jeremy caught it, bounced it a couple times; and then sank a long three-pointer.

"Very nice," the leftenant said. "I've heard some things about a Miss Wayne, is she here?"

"I think she's sleeping off jet lag," Arthur said. "She went back to the States for Christmas, her flight got in late last night. When and where is your class?"

"For now, it will be in here, and alternating with Dark Arts, until we can adjust the schedules," the headmaster said. "I'll formally announce it tomorrow at breakfast. Come, leftenant, the dojo is over here."

Jeremy and Amy walked over, "That's the new instructor?" Jeremy said quietly. "He looks like my older brother. He can't be more than twenty, twenty five at most."

"Did you smell how nervous he was?" Amy asked, stealing the ball from Charlie and dribbling it. "Who's running a book on the first match he has with Wayne?"

"We met him at the airport last night," Charlie said. "He boasted of having a black belt, and offered to make Wayne his 'assistant'."

Amy tried to stifle her laughter. "Oh, she is going to absolutely _flatten_ him. The only questions are how long she stretches it out, and how many bones she'll break. When do second-years have DADA?"

"Monday afternoons," Charlie replied.

"I've got sixth-year Charms then," Jeremy complained, Amy saying, "Magical Creatures for fourth-years." She nudged Jeremy, "We should get a pass on that class."

"Right-o," he snorted. "Better than Hagrid's bloody flobberworms," he said. "They're coming back. I'll run the book, but mum's the word!"

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Astronomy tower: _****_08:17_****_  
_**------------------------

The student strolled insolently over to where the two men sat. Sneering, they were asked, "Hagrid, Filch. Did you replace the school's candles as I ordered?"

They nodded dumbly, eyes glassy. The student snorted, and drew a wand. A quick incantation and they lumbered off, back to their quarters and their beds. The student watched them, brown hair blowing in the breeze on the top of the tower. With a smirk, she cast a quick stunner on a bench; then turned to gaze out over the parapets of Hogwarts.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000_****_:  
_****_London_****_, 93 Diagon Alley, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes: _****_10:14_****_  
_**------------------------

With a 'pop', Ginny materialized in the back room of the Wheeze. George looked up from the books, calling "Ginny!" and dropping his quill. "You brought them! Let me see them!" He crouched over them saying, "Hullo, there. I'm your uncle Gred."

Fred had come in, Ginny saying, "I want your word now. No playing pranks on them, now. At least let them start walking."

"Aww, Ginny!" Fred complained. "You hurt us to the quick! Would we do anything to our favorite niece and nephew?"

"Yes, you would," she replied firmly. "No tricks, pranks or gags. Do I have your word?"

The two pranksters glanced at each other; and then both grew evil grins. "You do, Ginny," one said.

"It just gives us time to raise them up right," his twin said.

"Heaven help us all," Ginny muttered, extracting and expanding the shipment from Hogsmeade. "Ian had an idea about Hogwarts and the Internet. However, it requires expertise in muggle tech, which we're limited on. Why don't we have a cuppa and talk, then, we might need to get someone from Wayne involved."

"You ought to see their new digs, Ginny," George said as he fixed tea. "It's two doors down from the Cauldron, all glass."

------------------------

Fred doodled on a muggle legal pad. "The first step is to have a look at Number 44, then. If it's sound, then we buy it and renovate."

"I wonder if anyone's thought of wiring up Diagon Alley for this Interweb thing?" George wondered as he idly stirred his tea. "From what you've said, Gin-Gin, these compulator things are handy. Too bad we missed out on them at Hogwarts." He put his spoon down, musing, "I wonder if you can buy and sell things that way."

"You can," Ginny nodded, summoning the teapot. "Severus has already bought potion supplies that way, although we had to arrange through Gringott's for something called a 'credit card'." She waved the pot invitingly, and Fred raised his cup. "It's a bit of plastic with a number on it that links to your vault. Apparently you can get a merchant's account, so people can buy from you also." Fred stopped pouring, and George reached over to tip the pot up before it spilled. Ginny continued, "What you do is create a 'web site', and have pictures and a description of the item. If you want to buy something, you click on the picture, and fill out how many you want." She raised her hand, "It means keeping an accurate inventory, though, and updating it minute-to-minute. Apparently that's something else these computer things can do and you can tie this into the shop's books, but it also means you can sell things twenty-four hours a day."

"And there's a whole muggle world out there..." Fred breathed. George thumped his back, asking, "How would we ship to muggles?"

"We'd have to have some sort of front, like Wayne does..." Fred said. He scribbled a note on his pad, "That's something we can look at, a whole new line of merchandise for muggles." He changed to a fresh sheet; then looked up, "George, a thought just occurred to me..."

"Careful there..." Ginny said with a grin.

"Shut it, you," Fred grinned. "Why not a shipping point for us, and..." he waved his quill in a circle, "...other merchants through the muggles? We'd have to have some way to get it to them besides owls."

"So we're thinking on buying two new places?" George questioned. He mused, "We'd have to find a shop on Knockturn that backed onto Charing Cross..." he sketched on his own legal pad, adding, "... buy and renovate it, set up accounts with muggle shipping companies..." he looked up, "Do we have that much extra cash?"

"Talk to the accountant," Fred said. "We might have to float a loan, but we could do it."

"Why don't you two take a walk over to Knockturn," Ginny suggested. "You can look at some property; see what's available while I show off the babes to Ron and Lee." She added, "You might ask Tom at the Cauldron on the quiet if he's interested in expanding to Hogsmeade, then on Wednesday night, you might float the shipping point idea at the Merchant's Association meeting."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Gryffindor table: _****_12:04_****_  
_**------------------------

Mattie yawned as she approached the study group. Mumbling "Good morning," she reached for the coffee pot.

"Afternoon, actually," Charlie said as she sat down.

She sighed with her first sip, and then asked, "How was your holiday?"

"Crowded," Charlie grinned, "But fun. You get used to your hometown, until you see it with someone that's never been there before. Especially someplace like Diagon Alley," he added.

"Point," she nodded. "I found a couple places in Gotham I didn't know were magical until I went looking for them. At least our elves don't have to go to New York for groceries." She took a slurp of coffee; then asked quietly, "How did it go with Ollivander's and the Morton kids?"

"Both Julie and little Bill got wands, although it took Mr. Ollivander _forever_ to fit Bill," Charlie confided. "Mr. Ollivander was thrilled, it took so long." Mattie raised an eyebrow, and Charlie coughed, adding, "Well, almost. You know Mr. Ollivander."

"Actually, we don't," one of the twins said as she sat down. "We got our wands in the Village."

"He's a bit ... off," Andrew said as he joined the table. "Claims to remember every wand he's ever sold. Where is Arthur, by the by?"

"Professor Sprout wanted him for something," Charlie shrugged.

Mattie grunted, and asked Andrew, "How's Felicia? Her first Christmas without her Dad must have been rough."

"I think she spent it with Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster," Andrew said.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 2, 2000:  
Grandview Heights, Ohio, Morton family home: _****_21:40_****_ (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

Bill Morton carefully unpacked the wooden boxes of Glenfidditch whisky. Stowing the three in the car, he came in and hugged his wife. "Ready to go back to work tomorrow?"

"No..." she turned to look up at him. "It was a wonderful trip, wasn't it?"

"It was," he agreed. "And we know about little Bill, too. I don't know how Julie is going to get through this next year at school."

"She wanted every book in that store," his wife agreed, a small smile on her face.

"Well, at least she'll get her chores done if she's going to get Arthur to tutor her," Bill said. "I think little Bill is going to explode before he can go."

"Speaking of which," Mama Morton said, "I was thinking of a part-time job. We'll have to pay for three at Hogwarts soon, best to start saving now." She sniffed, "I know the Waynes have offered, but ... "

"... but we won't ask for help if we can possibly do it on our own," Bill finished. "I appreciate what the Waynes are doing, and we may need to ask them, but we'll do what we can first. I don't think there will be a problem. The day I was born, Grampa Ed put 5,000 galleons on account with Gringott's to pay for my education at Hogwarts. He did the same thing three years later when my brother Rich was born."

"But he didn't do it when your sister Kathryn was born," his wife added sharply.

"Our Julie is the first witch in Morton family history. I doubt he thought it necessary," Bill said as he held his wife. "Any sexism aside, he didn't cancel the accounts when Rich and I turned out to be magic-less squibs, he just rolled them over into a trust fund. Without that, we couldn't afford to send Arthur, let alone Julie and Billy, to Hogwarts."

"What if Kathy or Rich's kids turn out to be wizards? Or our grandson Carson? There can't be that much money in the account."

"Maybe the Waynes have some investment advice." He nudged her, "We can use that fancy owl hutch for something. In any case, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: _****_09:00_****_  
_**------------------------

The door slammed and locked on the tick of nine, the class instantly falling silent. The black robes of Professor Snape swirled across the raised platform, stopping behind his lectern. He looked them over, before intoning, "Good morning. I hope you had a productive holiday. However, that is now behind us, we need to complete household potions by the end of February." He flicked his wand, "As such, we must accelerate our pace. In here, I have enough Bundimun fungus for everyone. Use your dragon-hide gloves, one of each of you will take a fungus and place it in a glass bowl for squeezing, whilst the other fetches the other ingredients on the board."

"They're ... looking at me," one of the twins said as she stood over the barrel.

"It is not intelligent, like some students in this school, Miss Cortez. Select one, whilst your partner..." Severus glanced at the assignment board, "... Mr. Kirke, prepares the cauldron. You will require at least one hundred milliliters of secretion, and make sure to remove the eyes before ..."

There was an odd squeal, and Felicia was shaking, "I don't know if I can..."

"Miss Hansen, this is no different than harvesting gillyweed extract. You are used to rats gazing back at you before you disembowel them, how is this different?" He gestured, "Miss Tonks, would you do the honors?" She took over as the Bundimun blinked at her.

------------------------

The bell rang; the Potion Master saying, "One last thing. On a personal note, I would like to wish the best of luck to Miss Wayne in her next class with the ... Leftenant. I have brewed extra Skele-grow for his treatment." His eyes glittered, "I am certain you will make your house proud."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000_****_:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, High Table: _****_12:08_****_  
_**------------------------

"... Starting this week, and until further notice, martial arts classes with Leftenant Martin will be on alternate weeks with DADA in the Hufflepuff gymnasium. Thank you," the Headmaster said as he sat, resuming his conversation with Professor Sprout.

"There go some students," Leftenant Martin said. "They seem to be quite a bit more active than I recall."

"No doubt discussing the change, and catching up after the break," Minerva said, pouring a fresh cuppa. "Tea, Severus?"

"Thank you, Minerva. Yes, that is undoubtedly what they are doing. They will settle down soon, and," the Potion Master added, "It is a great deal more peaceful than when that pack of Weasleys were attending."

"True," Minerva smiled. "I don't need to keep an ear cocked for explosions any more."

"Ah, yes, I remember the twins," the Leftenant said. "They never did take after their brother Percy. What are they doing now?"

"The oldest, Bill, is working as a curse-breaker for Gringotts, and is recently engaged," Minerva said. "He was before your time. The next, Charlie, is a dragon-tamer in Romania and has been in a on-again, off-again relationship with an Auror."

"He was a decent Seeker," the Potion Master added. "With a bit of training, he could have gone professional."

"Thank you, Severus," Minerva said. "Percy, as you know, is now Minister of Education, and ..."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: _****_13:00_****_  
_**------------------------

The door slammed and locked on the stroke of one. Professor Snape strolled up front, addressing his third-years, "Today, we shall have a bit of extra-credit. I want a report from each of you on what you're about to witness." He drew his wand, casting '_spectatio audentia gymnasium'. _

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff gym: _****_13:02_****_  
_**------------------------

"... and Miss Wayne." Mattie waved from where she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, and the Leftenant blinked at her. "Well, now, you're the young lady I've heard about. You've taken a class or two in the martial arts?"

"One or two, sir," she said demurely. "I'm nowhere near my sensei's level, of course."

'She lies well,' Arthur thought with a frown.

"Of course. For those of you who don't know, 'sensei' means 'teacher'," the Leftenant said. "Well, now, has anyone else experience?"

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom: _****_13:04_****_  
_**------------------------

"Well, today we have a bit of extra credit," Professor Flitwick told his fifth-years. "This is a handy little charm to enable you to see and hear what goes on behind closed doors. It's a short-range spell, only a few hundred yards at most. It is usually used as a one-way baby-monitoring spell, and can be blocked by wards. For instance, I might cast it like so: '_spectatio audentia gymnasium'. _On a shimmering display about three by four feet, the Hufflepuff gymnasium appeared.

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Transfiguration office: _****_13:07_****_  
_**------------------------

"There you are, Minerva!" Albus called. "Shall we see how the Leftenant does on his first class?"

"I'll fetch the tea if you would cast the spell, Albus." Minerva bustled off, smiling.

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Magical Creatures class: _****_13:12_****_  
_**------------------------

"Professor Hagrid, d'you think we could have the class inside the castle today?" Amy asked. "It's cold and there's supposed to be more snow."

"Cold? Snow?" Hagrid cast an eye on the crystalline blue sky. "'Nae, 'tis warm en'ow. C'mon, nae, 'tis a special treat. She foaled las' night, she did."

Amy sighed, and followed the rest of the freezing class of fourth-years toward the paddock.

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff gym: _****_14:22_****_  
_**------------------------

"So now you know how to take a proper fall. I do apologize for damage to your uniforms, for our next class on the, um, seventeenth, please come to class dressed in your workout clothing." The Leftenant said. "In any case, please practice falling, and then we will modify that to include a roll back to your feet. If we practice, by the end of next month, we should have everyone qualified for their white belts."

"Now, then," he told the class. "I understand that three of you already have some martial arts experience; the Cortez twins and Miss Wayne." He motioned her up, asking, "Miss Wayne, the twins have green belts, do you have something more, perhaps a brown belt?"

"A bit more, sir," she said as she removed her robes and straightened her skirt. She bowed to him, taking a ready stance.

"Was your sixth black belt in your third or fourth form, Mattie?" Arthur called; the Leftenant's face paling.

Mattie smiled, "Arthur Donald Morton, your ass is mine," she told him sweetly. Looking at the Leftenant, she told him, "Would you like to withdraw, Leftenant? You're a bit overmatched."

"_Six_ black belts?" he shook his head, asking "In what? Who's your sensei?"

"I would have eight if I didn't have to wait five years between testing," she admitted. "As it is, I've got one black in tai-chi, two blacks each in tai-kwon-do and Formosan karate, and a single black in judo." Mattie grinned at the Leftenant, "I'm working on my fourth degree belts in karate and TKD. Once again, would you like to withdraw, Leftenant?"

"No, thank you," he snapped. "I don't like someone that's having me on. I don't like liars, Miss Wayne."

Mattie lost her smile, her eyes becoming hard. "Very well, no killing blows, Leftenant. I don't like being called a liar." She motioned, "You may make the first move."

------------------------

"Your best bet, mate," Charlie told Arthur, "Is that the Leftenant wears her down enough that she won't thump you too bad. Why on _Earth_ did you say that?"

"She needs to be taken down a peg or two," Arthur said, watching the two circling each other. He called, "Let's see some action!"

"Don't dig yourself in deeper," Mattie replied, throwing the Leftenant as he attempted a grab. He rolled to his feet and came back at her with a front kick. Mattie twisted away and launched a counter-kick toward his knee. It failed to connect as the straight kick had been a feint. Dropping to the ground, the Leftenant attempted to sweep Mattie before she could get her feet set.

Mattie hopped the sweep, spinning her body so the kick landed on her opponent's right knee with an audible 'thunk'. Instead of following up, Mattie allowed the man to hobble away and said, "Leftenant, I have a suggestion."

"That I withdraw? Never! A Marine never backs away from a fight." He managed to stand straight, saying, "You have some experience, Miss Wayne, but that does not make you my superior. You _will_ call me sensei."

"When you've earned it, Leftenant. I was going to suggest that since this is a class, we treat it as such." He grunted, and she continued, "The idea is this class teaches you how to defend yourself without magic. I was simply suggesting we use a real world scenario, for instance, a street mugging."

"That makes sense," he admitted. "I presume I play the mugger?"

"If you're up to it," she said innocently. He nodded, and she turned, "In this case, I would presumably be in a muggle location, where the mugger tried to attack me with a knife." She pulled a sheathed knife from her boot, tossing it to the Leftenant He extracted the blade, and whistled. "Very nice," he said as he resheathed it; then moved behind her. "Come along, you little bint, we're going to..." Mattie reached up, pulled forward and twisted, forcing the leftenant to the mat, then applying an arm bar to flip him face down. "Did everyone see that?" she asked the class.

"It happened too fast," Felicia offered hesitantly.

"It's simple. The mugger reached for me, leaving himself vulnerable because he's bigger and stronger than I am. Also, most muggers won't anticipate martial arts from cute little girls like me." She grinned, and people laughed. "Except in Gotham," Arthur said, and Mattie agreed. "In Gotham, they're likely to come at you with an automatic weapon. If you want to see my hometown, give me a call first." The leftenant groaned.

"What's an 'automatic weapon'?" Amanda and Felicia asked, one of the twins and Charlie leaning over to explain. Mattie continued over their gasps of horror, "The mugger is now overextended when he reaches for me. When I pull on his arm, I'm extending that and throwing him off balance. At that point, I twist his arm, knocking him off his feet and forcing him down. Can everyone see where I'm holding his arm?" She raised his captive arm a few inches, and he screamed in pain. "The advantage of this hold is that it requires little effort on my part, and if my mugger gets testy, I can increase the mild discomfort he's in very easily. However, I can't sit like this all day long, so I'll have to disable him in some way. I don't want him coming after me, after all. He's likely to be irritated."

"Too bloody right," the leftenant managed to say. "Miss Wayne, a detention and fifty points from Slytherin."

"Which I'm appealing, of course. You were warned I had martial arts experience, and you invited me to participate. Once you knew what my skill level was, you were offered a chance to yield, which you declined. Any mild discomfort or embarrassment you're feeling is your own fault, Leftenant."

Mattie cleared her throat, "That's for the future. What do I do with my mugger, here? There are no cops around, and I can't simply let him go. I could simply knock him out, but that particular grip is beyond you blokes right now. So, I decrease his mobility by breaking a leg. The easiest way to do that is by breaking the femur, or thigh bone. The drawback to this is that this bone is the largest, longest, and strongest in the human body. A simple kick will do it (the leftenant moaned), but you lot aren't up to kicks yet. Therefore, you go for a weak point – the knee. I simply smash my foot down on the inside of his knee, which will break his kneecap very nicely." The leftenant howled; his right arm flailed as Mattie continued, "He can now stand on his left leg, and hobble after me. However, the right knee joint will need a surgeon to repair the broken patella, or kneecap, and reattach the tendons of the lower leg." She patted the leftenant, "Good thing we've got our Infirmary, isn't it?" She looked at Arthur, and smiled.

Charlie edged away, saying, "Mate, I'll bring flowers to your grave."

"Knock it off, Mattie!" Arthur said as he stood and approached her, "You proved your point." His wand was out. He asked her quietly, "This is how you're taught in Gotham? Cripple your opponents after they're down?"

Mattie glared at Arthur with a look of shock and fury on her face. People edged away, when a moan from the Leftenant drew her back to reality. Arthur said quietly, "He's not Joker or Zsasz. He hasn't harmed your family, or killed your relatives. He's an _innocent_, Mattie; you don't need revenge on him."

Mattie stepped back, frowning. '_What was I thinking?_' she asked herself. '_I asked him to demonstrate a technique, he'd obliged her and she'd wrecked his knee. I would have continued by dislocating his shoulder and cracking his elbow,_' she thought. '_He played fair. He hadn't thrown the knife at me, or tried to stab me, or grabbed my hair. He'd attacked in the manner I requested so I could demonstrate a technique and instead of doing it so the rest of the class might have the chance to actually learn it; I snapped him over at full speed and treated him worse than I would a real attacker._'

Mattie bowed deeply, "Sensei, you have my most humble apologies," she said, casting chilling and analgesic charms on his knee. She glanced up as Professor Snape hurried into the room; then extended her hand to the prostrate Leftenant.

"We need to see the Headmaster," the Potions Master told her. She shook her head, "After the Leftenant is in the Infirmary, sir."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Charms classroom: _****_14:44_****_  
_**------------------------

The class was silent. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat, then asked his fifth-years, "Well, what can we learn from this?"

Eleanor Branstone said, "Don't piss Wayne off."

James Dorney added, "She was being gentle with the leftenant. I remember what the Death Eaters were like last year." Orla Quirk nodded, "You think she's pissed now; we saw what she was like last year. Malfoy was one massive blond bruise."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: _****_15:37_****_  
_**------------------------

"...Miss Wayne, I must admit to my eternal shame that I, and a good part of the rest of the staff, made book on just how much damage you would inflict on Leftenant Martin and on how long he would last. I know there were at least two such pools amongst the student body," Dumbledore said from behind his desk.

Mattie stood at parade rest, as there were no chairs for Professors McGonagall and Snape either, she wasn't bothered. She didn't reply, the fact there had been pools on the fight didn't really surprise her. At Hogwarts, people bet on anything and everything.

"However," he continued, "the assumption was made, on all our parts, that any such damage would be inflicted while you were sparring."

"Instead," Minerva said, speaking for the first time, "after one attack, you halted the sparring and... What is the muggle phrase... You 'sucker punched' him."

Mattie nodded, "No excuses. The infirmary will have him back on his feet shortly,"

"And if the infirmary were not there?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor Snape's snort was music to Mattie's ears. "Sir, we can argue 'what ifs' all day. But the infirmary is there," Mattie stated.

"Which brings us to the matter of your punishment," Dumbledore said.

"Sir, I-" Mattie began.

Dumbledore raised his hand, and said in a tired voice, "For two counts of lying to an instructor, Slytherin is docked 40 House Points and you must serve two detentions with Leftenant Martin. This replaces the 50 points and one detention the leftenant gave you. For 'sucker punching' the man, there is no punishment other than a formal letter of apology due in my office before midnight tonight. Any costs related to his treatment will come from my personal funds as I, for one, should have known better. You are dismissed."

"Sir, I injured him. I..."

"That is not necessary, Miss Wayne," Professor Snape said. "We will discuss your additional detentions with me later. You are dismissed."

Mattie nodded and left. Albus sighed, conjuring overstuffed chairs for Minerva and Severus. "It is one thing to wager on injuries before they occur and quite another to watch those injuries be inflicted. If I ever attempt to make a similar wager, please stun me until the urge passes."

After seating herself, the Deputy Headmistress replied, "Only if you two will do the same for me." After a significant pause, she added, "I take it you had an eye on the whole performance, Severus?"

He nodded, accepting a levitated cup of tea. "Of course, considering her treatment of the Death Eaters last year. Then, she was defending against a threat to their lives. The Leftenant got off far lighter than I ever expected."

"I believe that was due to Mr. Morton's actions," she replied. "I must admit to some surprise, Albus. The boy has taken enough lumps as of late."

"Really?" the Headmaster asked.

The Potion Master raised his hand. "An unforseen side effect of the oculis potion variant Miss Wayne and Miss Tonks brewed for him. It left him with the ability to see through things, including clothing. I suspect contamination in the rat organs used as a stabilizer or interaction with the moondust laced anti-lycanthropy potion I tested on him," Snape explained. "In a castle full of hormonal teenagers, there are obvious and painful corollaries to such a condition."

"And why was I not informed of this?" Dumbledore countered.

"I did file an incident report. Whether or not you have read it, I do not know."

The headmaster raised his hand, a drawer across the room opened and a folder flew into his waiting hand. After glancing through it he asked, "What has happened regarding Mr. Morton?"

"Apparently, some girls feel the need to 'defend their honor', and some young men wish to defend their girlfriends from the actions of a 'pervert'," Severus said. "Both Miss Wayne and Miss Tonks feel responsible for his condition, and have defended him when they could." He raised his cup, taking a sip, adding, "As have I, as I did sign off on their work. I would like to state that Mr. Morton has not shown any sign that the condition is any more than a major aggravation. He is determined to handle the problem himself, and has not informed his family, the Waynes or the Tonks about his condition."

"But the rest of the school knows?"

Severus snorted delicately, "Of course."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 5, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: _****_08:47_****_  
_**------------------------

"... Well, is there any other business to discuss?" Albus asked at the end of the weekly staff meeting.

"Miss Wayne asked about flowers for the Leftenant," Pomona Sprout said. "I believe she still feels guilty."

"She does," Albus said. "I spent most of yesterday's session discussing the class with her. She became 'caught up in the moment'."

"If she can work with the Leftenant, I do think they would be a valuable resource," Filius said. "I would like to know how some of those things are performed, but she moves so quickly."

"I believe it is more if the Leftenant can work with her," Poppy said. "I don't think that likely."

"It's a survival instinct for her," Harry said. "You lot know Ginny and I visited Gotham over the Hols, I would not be here now without Gotham's infamous protector. We become arrogant; we're wizards, after all." He snorted, "That does very little with a machine gun shoved up your wife's nose, and a psychopath holding it." He glanced down the table at Poppy, "You were concerned about my drinking, well, now you know why. It's not at all like Voldemort and his Death Eaters." He took a swallow of tea, "That city should be leveled."

"It almost was," Kelly said, looking up from her laptop. "It suffered a massive earthquake, just after being hit with a plague." She shook her head, "They're a tough lot." Looking at Harry, she asked, "Was it that bad?"

"They were going to cut the babies out of Ginny, then _cook_ and _eat_ them." Harry shuddered, "I'm amazed that Miss Wayne is as stable as she is. Her hometown is completely bollocks."

"As you are one of the few here to have visited Miss Wayne's hometown, perhaps you should visit the Leftenant," Severus suggested. "It might give him a bit of insight into her character. I understand she has apologized to him personally, and she requested that she serve my detentions early, and has done so without complaint." He steepled his hands, adding, "As you know, my detentions are unpleasant, and in cases like this, I do not favor my Slytherins. She has said not a word, only requesting a change of clothing for the more odious tasks."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 5, 2000_****_:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: _****_14:23_****_  
_**------------------------

"Is he?" Harry asked Narcissa, who peeked over the divider, then waved him in. Taking a seat by the Leftenant, he offered, "I always liked the frogs, myself. I don't think you'd get many with the Navy."

"This gives me a chance to build my collection," the Leftenant admitted. He missed the jumping frog, but Harry's Seeker reflexes caught it. Offering the bit of chocolate to Harry, the Leftenant's eyebrow rose as he extracted the card. "Wonder what autographed cards are worth?" he asked.

"Depends on the wizard, I think," Harry mumbled.

"Well, we'll find out. I've a quill over there somewhere," offering the card to Harry, who groaned, but signed the card. Leftenant Martin chuckled, asking, "You didn't know you had a Chocolate Frog card?"

"Nooo, I didn't," Harry admitted. He shifted in his seat, "Have you ever been to the States?"

"Once or twice to Florida, with the Fleet. Why?"

"Gotham City?" Miss Wayne's hometown?"

"Ah, Miss Wayne. No, can't say I've had the dubious pleasure. Rather avoid it, if I might."

"I wish I had taken that advice to heart," Harry admitted. "Ginny and I went over the Christmas Hols. It was... not a pleasant experience." He leaned forward, "I would not be sitting in this uncomfortable metal chair right now if it weren't for Gotham's famed protector. It was frightening enough that Ginny went into premature labor." He shuddered, "They were going to _cook_ and _eat_ our babies." He looked at the Leftenant, "Have you any idea what it would be like growing up in that kind of environment?"

"The law of the jungle, eh?"

"Oh, it can be a delightful place, according to students that have visited. Of course we, in our ignorance, went on an unscheduled bimble. Totally unprotected."

"And were almost eaten," Harry nodded.

"Did Albus pop by to discuss Miss Wayne's detentions with you?" The leftenant nodded, "Severus _doubles_ detentions with his Slytherins, something I wish I had known when I was a student here." He took another glance at the chocolate frog card, shook his head; saying, "If you can see your way clear to working with Miss Wayne, I think we will all benefit. Up to you, of course. Give me a shout if I can do anything for you," and Harry took his leave.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 7, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room: _****_17:14_****_  
_**------------------------

Mattie dropped her book bag, collapsing into an overstuffed chair next to the fire. She leaned forward, her hands covering her face, a small sound was heard.

"Mattie?" Jeremy Pellew stopped, hesitantly putting a hand on her shoulder. A small hiccup was heard, and he looked up helplessly.

Julie Dorney dragged a chair over, flashing a quick smile at Jeremy, who grinned and escaped. "Don't mind Jeremy, Mattie. He means well, but blokes don't know how to handle crying females." She extracted a hankie, and poked it into Mattie's hand, with the instruction, "Blow."

"Y'don't understand..."

"Then why don't you tell us about it?" Emma Dobbs said. Karen looked up and motioned some of the guys on. With relieved expressions, they escaped to dinner.

"You heard about the little 'fight' (Mattie finger-quoted) with the Leftenant on Monday?"

"Heard about?" Emma said with a snort. "We watched the bloody thing in class. The whole school knows about it, and a good lot watched it. You destroyed him."

"No, no I didn't. I got caught in the moment. I was planning on how to... to destroy him if he kept resisting. I almost crippled him." She raised her head, "I could have killed him. A few millimeters one way or another, a few more pounds of pressure..."

"That easily?" Karen asked. Mattie nodded, reaching out and Karen flinched. "See?" Mattie asked. "I'm too dangerous to be around people. Even you guys are afraid of me, and I can't blame you."

"That's not what you're crying about, though," Emma said, and Mattie shook her head. "Is it Morton? It took a good bit of courage for him..."

"No, Friday afternoons I've been taking extra tutoring with Professor Flitwick. Well, you know him, always cheerful and all?" They nodded, and Mattie dabbed at her eyes, twisting the hankie, "I just kinda stayed quiet during class, but then after class, I asked if he minded if we, if we, worked through lunch, had an elf bring us something. He got this hunted, panicked look, like I was going to trap him with a feral werewolf or something." She glanced up, "Sorry, Sprink."

"I'd look like that too, if you were going to trap me with me when I'm feral," she said, shoving her way in front of Mattie, grabbing both hands and putting them firmly on her shoulders. "I don't care what a rum lot of tossers say about you. You're my best mate; you've always been there for me." She gave the others a venomous look. "What about Slytherin solidarity? Can any of you lot look me in the eye and tell me you're afraid of Mattie? How soon do you lot forget who saved your bloody arses last year?"

"Too right," Frank MacDonald said. "I'd rather have Wayne at my back than some of _you_ tossers. I know she won't fold, or sit around and dither." He crossed his massive arms, "Tomorrow's the anniversary of that game with Ravenclaw. I 'spect they're reliving that game up in their tower right now. Well, those of us who were there know who acted, and who folded." He glowered at his housemates, "We suffered with the Dark Tosser and his lot; is there anyone here who thinks Wayne is Dark?"

"Not I," Karen said. "Mattie, you have my apologies for doubting you."

"We all have the possibility..." Mattie whispered.

"Aye, we do." Frank said. "A' night, all cats are grey. The future will take care o' itself." He pulled Mattie through the circle of girls, folding her into his massive arms. "G'won, lil' sis. Let it out."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 8, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: _****_08:17_****_  
_**------------------------

The Slytherin Quidditch team entered the Great Hall in uniform, stopping against the wall. Karen stepped forward, and tapped a goblet with a butter knife. "The members of the Snake's Den would like to invite our honorable opponents from Ravenclaw to breakfast, and to wish them the best of luck today."

Orla looked down the table; then stood, "Um, the Eagle's Nest graciously accepts the invitation of our honorable opponents, and returns their best wishes." She waved, and people rearranged themselves on the long tables.

"What's going on?" one of the twins hissed at Mattie and Sprink. They smiled, replying, "Breakfast."


	18. Classes, Week Twentyone, Second Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
**18 – Classes, Week Twenty-one, Second Year  
**------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 16, 2000:  
Ireland, Howth Rd., Dublin, Weasley flat: 07:13  
_**------------------------

The laptop 'dinged', announcing "You've got mail!" Arthur Weasley poked at the email icon, calling, "We've got a letter from Ginny!"

Molly Weasley dried her hands on a dishtowel, pausing while the roar of a jet taking off from the nearby airport rattled the windows. "Does she say when we can come home?" she asked, standing behind her husband.

"Um... I'm reading it..." he mumbled, reaching up to hold her hand. "She's included snaps of the babes, and mentions Fred and George transferred another 2500 galleons into our account here. Licensing fees from December sales of the transformer; they mention the 150 and 300 watt models sold especially well over the hols, and ask if there's some adapter for receiving muggle telly signals."

"I needn't ask what you'll be doing today," Molly said fondly. "Then I can go off to work."

"I don't know why no one thought of a catering shop in London," Arthur said. "Once we get back, would you be interested in opening one in London?"

"We'd have to be disguised," Molly said, brushing her once-flaming hair. "We couldn't use the Weasley or Prewitt names, as we're still 'dead'. Still, it's something to think on." She leaned forward, resting her head on her husband's, "Now, let's see those piccies!"

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 17, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic: 07:17  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Betty," Percy said, popping his hat on the coat tree; then unwinding his muffler from his neck.

"Good morning, Minister," his secretary said, as she fixed his tea. "You've got your meeting with Ministers Fudge and Umbridge at eight," she reminded him.

"Drat, that's right," he said, accepting his cuppa. "Please remind me ten minutes before; I've got quite a bit of correspondence to get out. I'm not to be disturbed."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 17, 2000:  
London, Gringott's bank, conference room: 08:00  
_**------------------------

"Mister Weasley, and Mister Weasley!" Griplink said, shaking Fred & George's hands. "Please, have a seat. Tea?"

"Thank you, please," George replied as they took their seats. The tea set was floated about, and the meeting got underway. "I understand you've come to a decision regarding our application?"

"A line of credit?" Griplink asked. "Yes, although we did have a few questions."

"Fire away," Fred said.

"Yes, the Knockturn alley property you would be leasing instead of buying, why?"

"The property has been in the Bones family for quite a number of generations," Fred explained. "There is apparently a family codicil that prohibits selling property unless the male head of the line approves. Since the Dark Tosser killed Susan's parents several years ago, they have to wait for Susan to find a bloke, marry, and produce a son, who will then be the male head upon his majority." He shrugged, "Therefore, a 99 year lease with renewal option, which does give them a revenue stream."

"Hmm, I see," Griplink said, making a note. "The Knockturn property would be connected to the London power grid, what about the Hogsmeade property? Why not use one of your father's transformers for power there?"

"We don't have one with the capacity yet," George replied. "There are technical problems, and we can't hook into the muggle power grid there. We've decided to do what Hogwarts does, so we'll use multiple transformers."

"I see..." Griplink mused. "You would be getting Internet connections through WayneTech. What about local service?"

"We've contacted several recent muggle-born graduates of Hogwarts," Fred replied. "We're fortunate to have a few that want to work with us as designers for these Intraweb..."

"...Internet," Griplink corrected.

"Right, Internet. Internet web sites. We're also offering hosting for companies on the Maginet part of the Internet, a package deal."

"What about wizard-born?" Griplink asked.

"We're certainly open to them, but, well, the muggle-born have grown up with it."

"I see..." Griplink mused. "The conversion of Hogwarts' connection from British Telecom to WayneTech."

"A rough timeline is in Appendix C, with copies of letters of understanding from Headmaster Dumbledore to WayneTech and to us." Fred shrugged. "We can't be more precise, as it depends on BT's scheduling. The agreement is that Hogwart's equipment is getting free rent and power in one of our back rooms, with the understanding that we can take no more than 20 percent of their bandwidth." He raised his hands, "Beyond that, you'll have to ask WayneTech. They tried to explain it, but it's beyond me."

"I believe that's all the questions I had," Griplink said. "I will recommend approval, and we should be able to conclude this by the end of the week."

"Brill!" Fred whooped, while George shook Griplink's hand.

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 17, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic: 08:02  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Minister," Percy said, nodding "Minister Umbridge. How are you all today?"

Dolores accepted the floating tea set, and fixed her cup. "Better, Weasley, better. Azkaban is almost cleaned out. We need to fill it up with our enemies." She passed the tea set over, "I want to see Wayne, Potter and Dumbledore in there. How can we arrange it?"

"Difficult," Percy mused as he sipped his tea. "Potter and Dumbledore are both too powerful to ambush in someplace like Diagon Alley. Edward, may he rest in peace, tried to kill Wayne (Fudge snorted), and she's not allowed on trips to Hogsmeade. She's only a second-year," he reminded Dolores. "What about her Aunt Lois? Could we arrest her and throw her in Azkaban? Possibly set a trap for Wayne?"

"With her newspaper? I can't remember the last nice thing she wrote about me," Fudge said.

"Re-opening the floo connections," Dolores said, Percy adding, "She regretted the 'breakdown in civil discourse' that caused poor Edward's death. How are we in finding the killer?"

"Not very far," Cornelius said. "DMLE and the Aurors don't have experience with snipers or muggle guns, the only real evidence we had was the bullet we took out of your shoulder, Dolores, and that seems to be misplaced."

"Why can't we pin it on Wayne?"

"Aside from three professors and several students placing her at Hogwarts at the time? She's too much of a public figure, like her Aunt," Percy said. "By the by, I've heard rumors that Ms. Lane has asked you for an interview."

"She did," Cornelius admitted. "I'm tempted, that will prove once and for all that I'm a simple, humble servant of wizard kind." Dolores and Percy looked at each other as Fudge continued, "I want Wayne made an example of. Arrange the arrest of the Aunt. I want it done at Hogwarts."

"What charge?" Percy asked.

"Defamation of a government official," Umbridge suggested. "She can't deny she's said nasty things about us."

"True. I want it done at Hogwarts. I want to prove that no place in Great Britain is beyond my grasp," Fudge declared. "Now then, after that dratted Pimpernel person interfered, do we have any vampires or werewolves?"

Dolores sighed, "We had a family of vampires in our clutches, but the bloody Pimpernel whisked them from our grasp, and now the Germans are upset with us. They don't seem to understand what a service we're doing."

"Weasley, I want you on a broom to Germany. Get this sorted out, and if you can't bring those vampires back, at least bring back their gold."

"Yes, Minister."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 17, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff gym: 13:05  
_**------------------------

"Before we begin... Miss Wayne, you are excused from this class and I see no reason for you to ever return," Leftenant Martin said stiffly.

"You're kicking me out?" Mattie asked. "Why?"

"There are several reasons Miss Wayne. The simplest is that this is a class for beginners and with your skill, as much as I am loathe to admit it, there is nothing I can teach you." Mattie opened her mouth, and he raised his hand, "While I certainly could have used a skilled assistant, after the events of two weeks ago, I do not believe I can trust you with that responsibility. Your actions were not those of a martial artist, but those of a bully. I will not put the other students at hazard of your temper."

Mattie's face burned red, whether in anger or embarrassment being debatable. "Finally, your continued presence would be extremely disruptive. I noticed two weeks ago that every time I gave an order, people would look to you for confirmation before following it. There can only be one person in charge and in this class... that will be me. It will be difficult to overcome the damage you've already done and impossible if you remain. So regretfully Miss Wayne, you are dismissed. I suggest you go to the Library and bone up on your Transfiguration skills, I understand that you have some difficulties there."

Mattie glared at the leftenant with narrowed eyes, spun on her heel and marched out of the gym without saying a word.

"Wait, Mattie!" Sprink called, slinging her bag. She shot a glare at the Leftenant, "I want to learn this. She's better qualified to teach it, and this isn't the Army."

The twins traded a look; saying in unison, "We agree."

"They're right. Cheerio," Charlie said, asking, "You coming, mate?"

Arthur shook his head, "I think I'll see what happens."

"At least the Gryffindors have some sense," Leftenant Martin smirked.

"We do. We know who's better qualified," Andrew said, as Amanda joined him. Felicia hesitated, then slung her bag over her shoulder and ran after them as the Leftenant blinked in shock.

------------------------

"Where to, oh fearless leader?" Charlie asked.

"Guys, you'll get in trouble for skipping class," Mattie said.

"Bugger Leftenant Prat, I wanna learn this," Sprink said.

"Besides, we're dressed for it this week," one of the twins said.

"What about the Room of Requirement?" Amanda asked.

"That works for me," Mattie said.

------------------------

_To: Leftenant Martin  
CC: Severus Snape  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 17 January, 2000 18:44:38  
Subject: Detentions _

_Leftenant:  
I still owe you two detentions. Please let me know when you would like me to serve them with you. _

_To: Mattie Wayne  
From: Leftenant Martin  
Date: 17 January, 2000 20:25:16  
Subject: Re: Detentions _

_Miss Wayne:  
Not only do you owe detentions, I want you expelled for being a disruptive influence! _

_> I still owe you two detentions. Please let me know when you would like me to serve them with you. _

_To: Severus Snape  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 17 January, 2000 20:44:23  
Subject: Re2: Detentions _

_Professor, what's this about? I showed up for class this afternoon, and the Leftenant not only threw me out, he told me not to return, calling me a 'disruptive influence'. It's not my fault that several people followed me out – I didn't ask them to, and warned them they'd get in trouble if they didn't.  
_

_> Miss Wayne:  
> Not only do you owe detentions, I want you expelled for being a disruptive influence! _

_>> I still owe you two detentions. Please let me know when you would like me to serve them with you. _

_To: Albus Dumbledore  
CC: Minerva McGonagall  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 17 January, 2000 21:03:11  
Subject: Fw: Re2: Detentions _

_Please find below an email exchange between Miss Wayne and Leftenant Martin. I know of no reason for the Leftenant to demand her expulsion. In speaking to both Miss Wayne and Miss Tonks, the members of her study group followed her out, saying she was better qualified to teach this course. As she has done so since part way through her first year, and is higher ranked, I would tend to agree. _

_> Professor, what's this about? I showed up for class this afternoon, and the Leftenant not only threw me out, he told me > not to return, calling me a 'disruptive influence'. It's not my fault that several people followed me out – I didn't ask them > to, and warned them they'd get in trouble if they didn't.  
_

_>> Miss Wayne:  
>> Not only do you owe detentions, I want you expelled for being a disruptive influence! _

_>>> I still owe you two detentions. Please let me know when you would like me to serve them with you. _

_To: Severus Snape  
CC: Albus Dumbledore, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 17 January, 2000 21:44:22  
Subject: Re: Fw: Re2: Detentions _

_I have spoken to Mr. Kirke, Miss Leeds, and Miss Hansen. They are in agreement that they followed Miss Wayne out because she is not only more qualified, and they are friends, but the Leftenant is a 'major prat'. _

_From what I can discover, the Leftenant is coming across as a 'know-it-all arse', which would be one thing if he DID 'know-it-all', but he does not. By banning Miss Wayne, he is depriving the students (and himself) of her knowledge. _

_While I doubt she would cancel the Bats' contract with the school in a fit of pique, she may decide not to return next year. _

_> Please find below an email exchange between Miss Wayne and Leftenant Martin. I know of no reason for the Leftenant > to demand her expulsion. In speaking to both Miss Wayne and Miss Tonks, the members of her study group followed her > out, saying she was better qualified to teach this course. As she has done so since part way through her first year, and is > higher ranked, I would tend to agree. _

_>> Professor, what's this about? I showed up for class this afternoon, and the Leftenant not only threw me out, he told me >> not to return, calling me a 'disruptive influence'. It's not my fault that several people followed me out – I didn't ask >> them to, and warned them they'd get in trouble if they didn't.  
_

_>>> Miss Wayne:  
>>> Not only do you owe detentions, I want you expelled for being a disruptive influence! _

_>>>> I still owe you two detentions. Please let me know when you would like me to serve them with you. _

_To: Severus Snape  
CC: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout  
From: Albus Dumbledore  
Date: 17 January, 2000 22:16:33  
Subject: Leftenant Martin (Was: Re: Fw: Re2: Detentions ) _

_As I have a Legilmancy lesson with Miss Wayne tomorrow morning, I will reassure her that I have no intention of expelling her. In the interim, please monitor the Leftenant's classes when you have a moment, and advise me.  
Albus  
_

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 18, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 09:02  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Professor," Mattie said as she knocked and entered. She scrubbed the frost from a windowpane, asking, "Still snowing? How do you stand it with the window open for the owls?"

"There is a modified warming charm on the window, and a good cuppa helps," he said, offering her a cup.

She chuckled and accepted, passing over an envelope. "Putting on my Ballycastle hat, that's a copy of the report I received on the December gate receipts, and a transfer receipt for Gringotts. A somewhat belated Christmas present, but the thought's there."

"Indeed it is," Albus said as he scanned the report. "Miss Vector will be most pleased to see this." He looked over his glasses, "She took over the budgeting for Miss McGonagall, who has a bit too much on her plate." He sighed, "I shouldn't tell tales, but one particular student is giving her fits."

"Miss Koslowski, I presume," Mattie said, and the Headmaster looked over his half-moon spectacles at her, "Like I haven't given Professor Snape an ulcer or two."

"I have no doubt he has a selection of potions for that eventuality. By the by," he added, putting the report down, "Please don't be concerned about the Leftenant. Had you done something wrong, we would have addressed it with you."

"I thought so, but..."

"You were still nervous about it. Also, please don't be concerned about your friends; they are not in trouble either. I will ask Professor Potter to join you on the 31st in the Room of Requirement."

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 18, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potter flat: 17:52  
_**------------------------

Harry looked up as his wife entered the flat, rushing to help her with her coat. With a 'pop', Dobby appeared to take the coat, giving her a mug of hot tea. She sighed, asking, "How was your day?"

"A bit of paperwork, and Percy sent a letter, I sent his owl on." He gently blocked her from moving, adding, "Hot bath and a meal, young lady. It's supposed to snow all night."

------------------------

"Hmm," Ginny said, "Percy is off to Germany to steal some vampire gold, while Fudge plans to kidnap Ms. Lane during an interview, and blame it on Miss Wayne, who will be tragically killed." She looked at her husband, "He declares that no place in Britain is beyond him. Perhaps we should let Miss Wayne know?"

"Let's accommodate our good friend Cornelius, and suggest that Ms. Lane use the staff room on Friday afternoon. I'm off then, I can be available for backup," Harry said.

------------------------

"Ah, Miss Wayne, a moment of your time?" Professor Harry asked as the DA entered the Room of Requirement. She nodded, and he cast a privacy spell, "We've heard from some of our spies in the Ministry," he told her. "Fudge wants to prove that there is no place in Britain he cannot reach. He is planning to grant your Aunt Lois' request for an interview. He will then kidnap her and throw her into Azkaban, which Umbridge has been emptying of other inmates. You will be blamed for another assassination attempt, where you will be killed." He took a sip of tea, "We thought that if this was arranged for this coming Friday afternoon, I can be available as a backup. We also ask that in order to preserve our spies' identities, we'd like to ask that he has a partial success."

"That I die?" she asked disbelievingly.

"No, that they succeed in carrying off your aunt," he replied with a crooked grin. "You could possibly have a broken leg or something that will prevent you from pursuit. Of course, I'm sure that there is some bit of kit that will let you track her any place on the planet." He nodded at her Ring, "Will it block an AK? I don't think Fudge knows about it."

"Possibly," she mused. "It depends on the wearer's willpower."

------------------------

_To: The Clan (encrypted)  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 18 January, 2000 20:18:03 (GMT)  
Subject: Fudge coming to visit _

_Minister Fudge will accept Aunt Lois' request for an interview, accompanied as usual by several of his DMLE thugs. He plans to kidnap her, spiriting her off to Azkaban Island, thus 'proving' that no place is beyond his reach. _

_The source suggests she use the staff room on the ground floor for her interview on the afternoon of Friday the 21st. The arrest charge will be defamation of a public official. Tragically, I will be killed trying to assassinate Minister Fudge. _

_In order to protect the source, it has been suggested that we take a fall, and he succeed in spiriting Aunt Lois off. I can arrange a non-fatal injury to prohibit my 'pursuit'._

_To: The Clan (encrypted)  
From: Lois Lane  
Date: 18 January, 2000 20:24:26 (GMT)  
Subject: Re: Fudge coming to visit _

_He doesn't give up, does he? _

_Babs, can we wire that room for sight and sound? Fudge will probably destroy my pocket recorder. _

_Clark's with me, can you come up with a watch or other gizmo that Mattie can use to trace my signal watch? He can pop by the Clock Tower tomorrow if necessary._

_I can swing by Bangkok or Seoul if Mattie doesn't mind wearing a Rolex knockoff for a few days – Clark._

_To: The Clan (encrypted)  
From: Babs  
Date: January 18, 2000 15:43:08 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Re2: Fudge coming to visit _

_I have a design for a circuit board. If people don't mind giving up their watches for a day or two, we can have Rolex install them, with directional LED's under the numbers on the faceplate. It's only 30 mm or so in diameter. You can use that farmboy charm on the Rolex folks, Clark. (grin)_

_That room, the entrance hall and the great hall already have wireless access points. I can connect Lois' signal to the transport tube on the seventh floor, piggybacking on the sync signal to and from the moon. Clark, I can meet you at Hogwarts about 17:30 tomorrow, we can install cameras with both local and remote recording. Technicolor Lois! _

_To: The Clan (encrypted)  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 18 January, 2000 21:22:13 (GMT)  
Subject: Re3: Fudge coming to visit _

_Aunt Lois, when I see you Friday, I'm going to slip you the Ring and Battery. This will give you a bit of additional protection while you're a guest of the DMLE. While you're wearing them, only you or I can remove them from your body._

_Don't worry about me, I'm a "bloody snitch" according to the late (un)lamented Edward Hansen. I've dueled these DMLE twerps before, and Professor Harry is available for backup._

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 19, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 08:38  
_**------------------------

"One other thing," Albus said, accepting the floating tea service. "Cornelius will be accepting Ms. Lane's request for an interview this Friday afternoon. His intention is to declare no place in Britain is beyond him. His plan is to arrest Ms. Lane on a charge of defamation of a public figure, and when Miss Wayne attempts to interfere, she will unfortunately be killed by the DMLE, the mastermind of an assassination plot."

"You can't be serious, Albus!" Minerva protested.

"Unfortunately, he is," Harry interjected. "I believe Miss Wayne and her clan have some plans in place, and I intend to loiter in the area, to help out if I might."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, January 19, 2000:  
Switzerland, Rolex factory: 13:28 (GMT+1)  
_**------------------------

"Guter Nachmittag" (Good afternoon), Superman politely told the startled secretary in German. (May I have a few minutes of the Chairman's time?)

(Superman? Ah, one moment, please.) She desperately hit the intercom, (Chairman, Superman requests a few minutes of your time.)

(Superman? Are you joking? Or drinking?)

(I wish. It's HIM!)

Superman smiled, adding, (If the Chairman's too busy, I can come back later.)

The secretary reached for her intercom, but the chairman came puffing around the corner, calling, (Superman! Please, what can we do for you?)

(Just a small favor. I was hoping you could modify a few of your excellent watches to include a circuit board. My friends and my daughter run the risk of kidnapping, and...)

(Your daughter? Say no more...) The chairman said, holding up his hand. (We shall see to this immediately. Miss Weber, if you would call...)

She was already on the phone, (Waiting for you, gentlemen,) she said with a smile.

------------------------

Fräulein Weber's call had the repair shop waiting with baited breath. Superman shook hands; then conferred with the techs while the chairman beamed. (The circuit emits an ultrasonic signal that I can hear if my wife or daughter are in trouble. The lights show direction. Can they be placed under the numbers on the faceplate?)

(Mr. Superman, we shall make it work for you.) The shop supervisor asked the chairman, (Sir, do you wish us to record the serial numbers?)

(No! Mr. Superman trusts the safety of his friends and relatives to our products. We shall not abuse that trust!) The chairman saw Superman with a wallet, and said, (No, Herr Superman. Your money is no good here.)

(There must be something I can do to show my appreciation...) Superman saw a steel plate, and bent it, gazing at it while steam wisped. He smiled, then reached into his cape, drawing out a dirty bit of rock. The chairman watched, fascinated, as Superman flexed his muscles, producing a diamond the size of a golf ball. As Superman gazed at it, a thin wisp arose from it. He asked the chairman, (Can you find a suitable display case for this, so the workers here can see it?)

(Of course, it will stay here,) the chairman promised.

(Mr. Superman, ready for the first test,) the technician said. Superman nodded; then winced. (It works,) he said.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, January 20, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Transfiguration class: 13:07  
_**------------------------

"...And Miss Wayne," Professor McGonagall said, making a note on her attendance. Looking up, she added, "Miss Tonks, Miss Wayne, Miss Leeds, and Miss Hansen, you are excused to Professor Snape. Each of you please take one of these sheets, I expect to see it next week." Felicia accepted the handouts as the Professor continued, "Now then, we will start on transfiguring living beings, specifically these jellyfish. Each of you please take one..."

------------------------

Professor Snape had his first-year class preparing ingredients, while a series of cauldrons bubbled. He stalked among them, waving the four second-years to seats. Amy Johnson came in from her Charms class and joined them, while Frank and Jeremy tended a larger cauldron.

"So, what's the handout from McGonagall?" Sprink asked, primarily to get her mind off the potion bubbling a few yards away.

"Um, transfiguring invertebrates," Amanda said, passing copies over.

"Simple enough," Amy said, and Mattie winced. Amy grinned crookedly, massaging her left calf ("Where I was bitten," she whispered), then asked, "Wayne, know where I can earn some gold over the summer? The economy..."

"Why, Minister Fudge says things are wonderful," Mattie deadpanned. "Sure, get me your CV and I'll pass it on. Got some good interviewing clothing?"

Amy nodded, adding, "Let me help you out with that Transfig. Unfortunately, the Minister isn't here to practice on..."

------------------------

"Miss Fook and Miss Koslowski, cauldron three," Professor Snape called. "Fifteen grams of lacewing legs, finely chopped." Sprink's head snapped up, '_That's in **my** potion!_' she thought, as she leaned forward, as Connie Koslowski put the legs on a scale, she saw Professor Snape flick a glance at Lee Fook, who shook her head minutely. "Poorly cut, Miss Koslowski, two points from Gryffindor. Miss Fook, dispose of these and start fresh." Beside Sprink, Felicia groaned at the point loss.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 13:22  
_**------------------------

Lois sat in one of the chairs, portable recorder on the table next to her, and looked over her notes. Throwing down her pen, she idly turned the ordinary grey ring on her right hand, and with a small smile recalled how Mattie had given her an exuberant hug, somehow clipping the Lantern to the waistband of her skirt while slipping the Ring on her finger. As a test, she commanded the ring to move her pen, and a hair-thin tendril of green energy snaked over the table's lip. Lois grinned, the energy vanishing.

The door banged open, a scowling DMLE thug inspecting the room while another guarded the door. Lois wore a slight smile as Cornelius Fudge strolled through the door. Standing, she offered her hand, saying, "Minister Fudge, a pleasure to meet you at last."

"Ms. Lane, so glad we could meet to clear up these misunderstandings," the Minister said, taking his seat. "I don't think we'll need that," he added, pointing his wand at Lois' recorder and blasting it.

"I'll be sending the Ministry a bill for 15 galleons," Lois said, feigning shock. "I hope you don't mind if I take notes."

"Not at all, so will I," Fudge said, taking out what had been described as a 'Quick-quotes quill' and parchment. "Now then, let's start with the basics. I was born of humble wizarding stock..."

------------------------

Lois let him go on, then interrupted the Minister's polemic about 'children who interfere in things they oughtn't'. "Minister, are you referring to Mr. Potter's repeated warnings in 1996 that the Dark Lord had returned? The return you consistently denied, until you personally came face-to-face with Voldemort?"

Fudge flinched at the name; saying, "Well, there was no supporting evidence, and the boy was a known liar and criminal. Why, his claim to have seen dementors when he was in the play park with his muggle cousin was ludicrous on the face of it! Then he compounds the situation by using magic in front of muggles! He's much too puffed-up, in my opinion. Why, any member of the DMLE could have taken out You-Know-Who, they never had a chance!"

The Minister's DMLE guards were giving him incredulous looks behind his back. Lois continued, "That's interesting, Minister. What of the prophecy, which claimed that either Potter or Voldemort had to kill the other? The Death Eaters certainly tried to kill Potter, including your friend Lucius Malfoy."

"Lucius was never a Death Eater! He told me so himself, he was simply a civic-minded citizen!"

"Yet he was arrested several times as a Death Eater, and he wore Voldemort's mark on his arm until the Dark Lord's death." Lois leaned closer, "Could your fondness for Mr. Malfoy be connected to the 4.3 million galleons he contributed every year since 1975, on average, to the Ministry and your campaign accounts? Since his sudden death, you've had to operate the Ministry with severely reduced tax revenue? With a great many wizarding businesses sending taxes to Inland Revenue, my sources tell me your monthly receipts are down to an average of 800,000 galleons. Of that, approximately two-thirds are going to law enforcement." She motioned, adding, "The DMLE and the Aurors, while most of the rest is going to the Wizengamot. By the by, Minister, I'm sure you're drawing _two_ paychecks, one for the Wizengamot and one as Minister, is a simple oversight."

Fudge stood; his face purple with rage, roaring, "Take her!"

------------------------

"Take her!" the image of Fudge roared, and Harry clamped a hand on Mattie's shoulder. "Give them a chance to get her out the door," he advised, watching as the two DMLE thugs wrestled a screaming, fighting Lois. "Someone stun her!" one guard called, Fudge waving his wand and stunning all three. Two other DMLE guards entered, reviving their colleagues and floating Lois toward the door as Mattie took off at a run, Harry following closely behind.

------------------------

Mattie glanced at her watch as she ran up the corridor, the numbers on the Rolex were glowing, which meant Aunt Lois had managed to activate her signal watch before being stunned. Bursting out into the Entrance hall, she called, "Aunt Lois!" and fired off a stunner at the thug who floated her at the tip of his wand. She crashed to the ground as the thug was stunned, while another returned fire. Mattie flipped out of the way, the stunner catching Professor Harry. Some students screamed and ran, while others put the DMLE under fire from their wands.

Cornelius Fudge strolled out of the staff room, smiling victoriously. A hex knocked his lime green bowler off, he eep'd and dove to the ground. The DMLE was hexing back, one called, "Minister! Use your wand!"

Mattie was advancing, intent on her 'rescue', when Fudge stood and saw her. He bellowed "Wayne!" then pointed his wand and screamed '_Crucio!_' She let loose a bloodcurdling scream, dropping to the floor and writhing. Fudge chuckled, she flipped to her stomach and opened her eyes, then started to crawl toward him, blood trickling down her face. Fudge blinked, keeping the spell on her as she continued to crawl slowly toward him. She stopped, and Fudge smirked, until she sat up, hate in her eyes, and drew a knife from her sleeve. Fudge swallowed nervously, keeping the Cruciatus spell on Mattie, until someone called, '_Everte Statum_', Fudge flying backward to slam into the wall.

"Minister, we must leave _now_!" a DMLE guard told him, offering a portkey as Mattie slumped. Fudge looked from him to Mattie's still form; then activated the portkey.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 14:09  
_**------------------------

"Oooh," Mattie moaned, opening her eyes. "Uncle Clark! Did it work? Where's Aunt Lois?"

"With Mr. Fudge," he said. "I'm keeping an eye on them. Lois' watch is still functioning; I would guess Fudge wants to personally see them off to Azkaban." He turned, "A souvenir," handing her Fudge's somewhat scorched green bowler hat. Madame Pomfrey's shoes were heard, and he squeezed her hand, "Phase two begins shortly," he whispered, taking his leave.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
Azkaban, Warden's office: 16:29  
_**------------------------

'_Enervate_' and a soaking wet, bound Lois Lane woke. She shook her head, gazing about the expensively furnished office. "You must be Warden Trimble," she said.

"And you are the infamous muggle Lois Lane, managing editor of the Wizarding Reporter," he replied. "Here, you will do as you are told, and I would mention that there has never been an escape from Azkaban prison."

"I would argue that," Lois said. "There was Sirius Black, of course, and just a few months ago, two young children from Cornwall you were keeping for Mr. Fudge mysteriously vanished," she smirked.

"Sirius Black was executed, and those children never existed," the warden said. "You are charged with defamation of a public official, specifically Minister Fudge. You have been tried and convicted, Minister Fudge sentencing you to a term of fifty years. Have you anything to say?"

"Convenient of Minister Fudge to try and convict his enemies," she leaned forward, "I'll be sure to include this in my next editorial. Would you like to add anything?"

"Take her away," he waved to the guards.

------------------------

"You going to co-operate?" the guard asked Lois in the corridor. "If you do, I'll do a few drying an' warming charms on you."

"I would appreciate that, thank you." She gazed about, "How do the guards keep the Dementors from feeding on you?"

"Not like you'll use the information," he chuckled. "We've got a charm we wear, makes us invisible to the bloody Dementors. Ministry secret, you understand." He undid the ropes from her legs, "A bit o' walking will help to warm you up. That way, please."

------------------------

After locking her in a cell on the third level of block C, the guard whispered, "We loves yer paper, Ms. Lane. Government job, though..." and she grinned. Straightening, the guard told her, "A bloke will be by with yer food. Have a nice fifty years."

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Wayne suite: 17:31  
_**------------------------

"Lois is in place, cell five on C-3, and Clark saw the warden lock his office." Babs said, looking at the 3-D model. She looked over at Minerva, Pomona and Harry, "Ready for your part in operation 'First Amendment'?"

"What is the 'First Amendment'?" Pomona asked.

"I'll explain on the flight," Clark said.

------------------------

"Good evening, Ms. Lane," Minerva said. "Are you ready to leave?" she asked, unlocking the chains.

"I certainly am, but how?"

"The same way Pomona and I got in, as cats. Shall we?" Minerva asked, leaving a red flower in the cell, and motioning to Pomona, who jumped through the bars of the cell.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
Azkaban, air ducts: 18:49  
_**------------------------

"Aren't you glad you insisted on coming?" Minerva the cat asked the transfigured Pomona, who sneezed. The similarly transformed Lois smiled as well as she could.

"I wanted to see what my flowers were being used for," the calico replied.

"Well, welcome to the newest Pimpernel," Minerva replied, before sneezing herself. "We've only a bit more to drop a present on the warden's desk."

"What's Harry doing?" Pomona wondered.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 21, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 18:54  
_**------------------------

Harry invisibly crept through the Ministry's first floor, arriving outside the Minister's office suite. Muttering a quick spell, he checked for anyone, picking the locks into the Minister's private office. Grinning, he pulled out a spare wand, muttering '_duplicus totalis_' over the stacks of files. He quietly enlarged a single red flower, placing it dead center on the Minister's desk, then left, relocking the doors on the way.

------------------------


	19. Classes, Week Twentytwo, Second Year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
19 – Classes, Week Twenty-two, Second Year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 23, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:09  
_**------------------------

"G'morning," Arthur said as he took a seat. "Feeling better, Mattie?"

"Peachy. A few minutes of the Cruciatus from an incompetent wizard is _so_ much fun," she deadpanned. "Speaking of whom, how's your other Defense class?"

"First tests for white belt are on the 31st," he replied. On seeing her expression he added, "Mattie, someone has to keep an eye on the Leftenant," Arthur said. She regarded him over her coffee cup for ten endless seconds; then said, "Okay. Let me know if you need help."

Arthur nodded, "How's your Aunt Lois?"

"'Pissed off' covers it pretty well," she replied. "She went ballistic when she saw Fudge casting Cruciatus on me, she's trying to..."

"One moment," Amanda said. "What do you mean 'she saw' Fudge casting an Unforgivable on you? She was unconscious; I saw them float her out."

"The miracles of modern technology, my friend," Mattie smirked. "We recorded the full sound and fury of that little fight. The problem now is how to show it to the wizarding public. You've never seen TV."

"No, but I have," Charlie said.

Mattie nodded. "Let me get my laptop."

------------------------

"We've got several different video streams to put into a coherent whole to tell the story," Charlie explained. "We want to give the appearance of fairness, while making Fudge look like his usual self."

"Bravo!" Mattie said with a grin. "Want me to arrange a job with the Beeb?"

Charlie flashed a crooked grin, "Maybe in a few years. Now then," he checked Mattie's scribbled list of camera positions, "We have camera one that looks over your aunt's right shoulder. Oh, Mattie, did you loan her your Ring?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, but I've got it back now."

"All right, we want to edit out the bit where she's playing with the Ring." Charlie tapped keys; then said, "Camera three caught a very nice bit of Fudge and his goons entering," more tapping of keys, "and then the destruction of your aunt's recorder and the start of the interview."

"Ah, so this is where you were Friday afternoon, Miss Wayne," Professor Flitwick said from behind her. "Might I have a moment?"

"Certainly, sir. Excuse me, everyone," as she walked down the length of the table to an empty area and straddled the bench. The tiny professor sat on the table next to her, casting a strong privacy spell, then clearing his throat nervously. "Well, now. I'm not quite sure how to proceed on this. First of all, I would like to extend my apologies to you for my behavior two weeks ago Friday. My behavior was not professional at all, and I could see I hurt you deeply."

Mattie took one of his hands, "I would have been frightened of me. I'm still disgusted with myself for that loss of control."

"I think a momentary loss of control is to be expected of all of us at some point in our lives."

"Perhaps for others, but not for me, not for my Clan."

"Perfect control, every hour of every day?" he snorted gently. "That's superhuman, which, by the by, does bring me to my next topic." He cleared his throat, hemmed and hawed a bit, then said, "Oh, drat it! Last week, I was on my way back from the loo when I saw your Uncle Clark flying! Without magic, or any sort of muggle device. Please explain it, because I can only come up with one answer, which is ... impossible!"

She moved to sit next to him, looked him in the eye, and whispered, "Nothing's impossible." She smiled gently, adding, "Talk to Professor Snape for a wizard's view of my family."

------------------------  
**_Sunday, January 23, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potion Master's office: 09:19  
_**------------------------

Filius Flitwick knocked on the statue, praying that Severus would be in. The statue rotated aside, Severus motioning him inside. He joined Pomona Sprout, who was, oddly enough for her, pacing, a glass of fire whiskey in hand. She took a gulp, glancing at Filius, who said, "I'll have one of those." Severus poured; then refilled it as Filius gunned it down. With a tiny smile, he said, "While I am as accommodating as the next, might I inquire the reason you are drinking my whiskey?"

"Mr. Kent!" "Miss Wayne!"

"Ah," Severus said as he stood. He pushed the bottle an inch, saying, "Feel free. I shall return in a moment."

------------------------

He returned, laying several thick files on his desk, and removing his wand. With several muttered incantations, and drops of blood scattered at different locations, he raised several additional, powerful wards. Filius' eyebrows were climbing into his hairline, when Severus activated a muggle device that emitted an odd buzzing, Pomona said, "What's all this about?"

"I do not _think_ the Wayne Clan have managed to plant listening devices in here, however, they and their intelligence collection are simply too good to ignore the possibility," Severus said. "As they have partnered with the Weasleys, I estimate my best efforts at a forty percent success rate. The smallest devices I myself have seen them use are the size of a pinhead. I feel confident that is not the limits of their technology."

"You do not trust Miss Wayne?" Filius asked, downing another glass of whiskey.

"On the contrary, I do. I will also inform her of this conversation, for several reasons. One of which is, she is a Slytherin, another is that her Clan ... un-nerves me on a level Voldemort never did." He rubbed his left arm absently as he glanced at Pomona, who sat on the edge of a chair, glass of whiskey in hand. "You had a question about Mr. Kent?"

She took a gulp, then said, "When Minerva and I went to Azkaban to rescue Ms. Lane, he simply picked us up and ... flew! Without a broom, or any sort of ... of muggle device! How? How did he do that?"

"Mr. Kent is also known by another name," Severus said, extracting a file and handing it over. "That of 'Superman.' I spoke to him last year when we were extracting the Quidditch teams from Malfoy Manor; he informed me that unfortunately, Miss Wayne did not share his most remarkable abilities. She is, as he phrased it, 'One-hundred percent Earth Human'. Still, she is a most remarkable person."

"She is," Filius said. "Miss Wayne told me, 'Nothing's impossible.', and I tend to believe her."

"Coming from her home town, it is understandable," Severus said, leaning back in his chair. "Mr. Morton has visited Gotham, as have the Cortez twins and Miss Tonks. They went on an escorted tour with the Waynes, while Potter and his wife went on an unscheduled bimble. The barbarians in that town were going to _eat_ the Potter babes after blowing Ginevra's head apart." (Both Pomona and Filius gulped their remaining whiskey.) Severus levitated the bottle, adding, "They would not be alive today without Gotham's infamous protector." He extracted another file, passing it to Filius. There was silence in the room, aside from the gurgle of whiskey.

------------------------

"So what of the Leftenant?" Pomona asked.

"The Leftenant is a fool. Admittedly, the idea was good, to permit our students to defend themselves without magic," Severus said. "However, the implementation was flawed. If you are learning to fight, learn from someone who knows."

"Miss Wayne..."

"If Miss Wayne wanted the Leftenant, or indeed anyone dead, they would be," Severus said. "Quickly, efficiently, and without trace to them."

"What about Edward Hansen's murder, then?"

"I have no doubt Miss Wayne and her clan knows who did it, and could prove it in an honest court. I am also without doubt that they did NOT do it." Severus steepled his fingers, "I offer two pieces of evidence in support. The first, Miss Wayne's guard in Azkaban is still alive, despite his attempted rape of her. Were she my daughter, he would not be. Secondly, Cornelius Fudge is still alive."

"The Minister?"

"The Minister has lost his conflict with the Wayne Clan; he simply does not accept it yet. Miss Wayne's... disagreement with Fudge is personal, unlike that with Umbridge, which was not. She also has powerful allies in the Goblins." Severus smiled, "I foresee Cornelius Fudge and his ministry broken and destitute within three months, six at the outside."

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 24, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's outer office: 07:04  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, Minister!" Mary Sue, the Minister's personal secretary chirped.

"Hrm," he mumbled, waving his wand to unlock his office. She sniffed, and turned to fix his tea, when he screamed in rage. Moving as quickly as possible on the uncomfortable, ridiculous muggle heels he wanted her to wear, she stopped in the doorway, asking, "Minister?"

"P... Pimpernel!" he managed to choke out. "The Pimpernel was here!" He plucked a red flower from his desk, waving it before crushing it in his fist. He screamed in rage again, sweeping the folders from his desk. She winced; _she_ would have to be the one to set them all to rights.

'_Time to go to work, dearie,_' she told herself, silently blessing her mate in Central Records who had changed her Hogwarts records from Slytherin to Hufflepuff. Personally, she hated her blonde hair and enhanced bust, but '_Do what you need to,_' she reminded herself. "Oh, Minister, it will be all right!" she cooed, putting a little more hip into her movement to him. '_Men are so predictable._' Hugging him, she made sure to trap his arm between her breasts, right where he could grope her. '_Uggh,_' she complained to herself, while finding the Minister responding as always. She whispered to him, "It's not Wednesday, but maybe..."

"Yes, maybe..." Minister Fudge replied. "Perhaps a bit of the 'Naughty Schoolgirl and the Headmaster' later?" She shuddered, turning it into a shiver of delight. '_I pity Wayne if she's ever caught by this pervert,_' she thought, adding for the Minister's benefit, "I don't have that outfit with me," running her finger along his jaw. "I'd have to go home and change at noon. Can I have a long lunch, Minister?"

"I don't see why not," he said, turning so his hands could maul her arse. He forced his mouth on hers; then she slapped his chest, telling him, "Go get your tea, Minister. It's on my desk, and then see how Minister Umbridge's day is whilst I clean this up." She slapped his chest again gently, saying, "You've given me a good bit more work, now shoo!"

------------------------  
**_Monday, January 24, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's outer office: 14:39  
_**------------------------

"Ooh, Headma... I mean, Minister, how do I look?" Mary Sue asked, tossing her heavy outer robes over her (wobbly) visitor's chair and pirouetting in her approximation of a Hogwarts uniform. The tiny grey pleated skirt flared, exposing the tops of her white stockings and garters, while the top of her bust showed in her unbuttoned blouse. '_At least I can wear more sensible shoes, instead of those dratted heels,_' she thought.

"You've got a bit of soot from the floo," the Minister said, 'cleaning' her blouse. "You're out of uniform, too! Ten points from Hufflepuff for not wearing your tie, and a detention for wearing the wrong shoes!" He pointed to a box on her desk, adding, "Now change this instant, young lady! You'll serve your detention tonight!"

"Yes, Headmaster," she said demurely, putting the portrait of the Minister's wife face down on the table as she frowned. As she slipped out of her oh-so-comfortable flats and into the... she opened the box. '_More bloody heels!_'

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 25, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff table: 07:44  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!" someone called, and the usual flock of owls (and bats) flew into the Great Hall. One particular owl circled the Hufflepuff table, landing in front of Charlie Adams. He blinked in surprise, thanked the owl, and unrolled the message to find a copy of the Reporter and a note.

_Mr. Adams:  
I understand you edited the video of my abduction by Minister Fudge from Hogwarts, and passed it on to me. I appreciate that, and I am enclosing a courtesy copy of the Reporter so you might see your name in print (page A-5). _

_If you are interested in a summer job with the paper, please e-mail or owl me.  
Lois Lane  
Managing Editor  
The Wizarding Reporter  
llane AT wizard co uk_

"What's the matter, mate?" Eleanor asked. Charlie handed her the note, unfolding the paper. Arthur leaned over and whistled, "It's a whole transcript, including pictures! Look, your name's on it, too!" pointing at the byline.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, January 25, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Hufflepuff first-year girls' dorm: 20:55  
_**------------------------

Daphne was brushing her teeth when 'Nicole at Night' finished up. She ran into the dorm when she heard 'Hufflepuff', mumbling "Turgn ig up!" through a mouthful of toothpaste.

"... and finally, the last of five reasons that Minister Fudge is incompetent. I've read this entire list, discussed his kidnapping of Ms. Lane, and he _still_ hasn't arrested me! Want my floo address, Minister?" Nicole chuckled, "I'm Nicole Sanchez, and this is Nicole at Night, signing off tonight's Wizarding Wireless!"

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 28, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Charms class: 09:02  
_**------------------------

Professor Flitwick looked up from the roll, "Mr. Adams, I understand you've gotten the journalism bug. Jolly good, I say. I understand Ms. Lane has offered you a summer job."

"Yes, sir, but I don't know..."

"Well, I suggest you discuss it with your father, and give it a go for the summer. If it doesn't work out, then you're none the worse for the experience. Now then, both of the Cortez ladies are here, and... "

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 28, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Infirmary: 13:19  
_**------------------------

The smirking student left, closing the door behind her, and Narcissa put her face in her hands. Draco materialized behind her, placing a cool hand on her shoulder, asking, "What's wrong, Mother?"

"Oh, Draco! You gave me a bit of a start, there," she sighed. "I can't talk about it, I'm sorry."

"Ah, one of Father's spells, I presume?" She nodded; then as her son's ghost drifted over her desk, she slapped her forehead, "I am SUCH a dunderhead! How did I ever get into Slytherin?" Turning to her computer, she called up a blank document, and began to type.

_Draco: _

_I am under a geis that prohibits me from talking or writing about this. However, it says nothing about typing it on a keyboard, because when he cast it on me in 1995, we knew nothing about these things. _

Draco nodded, and she continued:

_The student that just left is your father under a disguise charm and a glamour spell. I've nicknamed her 'Lucille Malfoy'. She cast 'Imperio' on me; I've sabotaged the school's normal re-supply order of candles to her specification. I don't know what her actual plan is, but I presume that it has to do with the resurrection of the Dark Lord. _

Narcissa rolled her eyes, Draco smirked as she continued:

_What she wanted now was samples from the Potter boy's hair and blood. I didn't have any choice but to provide them to her. I don't know what she's planning, but please warn Harry! I believe he's in his office with the twins. After Severus gets out of class, could you tell him what I've typed out?_

"Of course, Mother. I'll leave straightaway."

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 28, 2000:  
Hogsmeade: 13:41  
_**------------------------

Lucille Malfoy cast an invisibility spell on herself after passing through Hogwart's wards. As she strolled down the High Street, she peered in the window of the Weasley shop, and cast a silencing charm on the door, and a notice-me-not spell on herself.

"Lee must have left the door open," Ian muttered to himself as he closed it, returning to dusting the shelves.

Ginny sat in the back room, updating the shop's books on their new computer. She looked up to see a smirking first-year with her wand aimed. "Now then, Mrs. Potter, we're going to have a brief chat. '_Imperio_!' "

------------------------

Ginny struggled not to talk, but it was so much _easier_ to answer the questions. Perfectly reasonable, really. "I don't know precisely where Harry's put you-know-who's body, or the dagger containing his soul. I think they're in Gringott's vaults, but I don't know the branches, or the vault numbers. Harry wrote them down; he gave it to Dobby in case something happened to him."

"Bother," Lucille drawled. "What else is interesting?"

'_Such a silly question'_, Ginny thought. "I'm the Pimpernel's spymaster. I collate the information; then pass it on to the Pimpernel."

Lucille sat up, "Who are some of the spies?"

"Mary Sue Dibney, the Minister's secretary, has been passing information to us for a while," Ginny said dreamily. "She was the one that passed on the Minister's schedule for his Diagon Alley misadventure." She snorted, "A gust of wind saved Fudge's life. My bullet..." Ian barged into the back room, "We're out of blood pops again, Ginny." He looked up, "Who're you?"

"Your enemy, blood traitor. '_Stupify'_!" Malfoy snarled before making her escape.

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 28, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic: 16:50  
_**------------------------

Malfoy pasted a smile on her face as she walked the halls of the Ministry. '_Fools_!' she thought. '_If I allow any to live after I have raised the Dark Lord again..._' Rebuffing the hundredth seeming benefactor with a polite, "No, thank you, ma'am, I'm fine," she cursed Nott on the way to the Minister's office. '_He did his job too well with this disguise..._'

Sauntering past Mary Sue's desk, Lucille strolled into Fudge's office. The blonde secretary chased after her, but Fudge waved her off, telling her, "This is one of my informants at Hogwarts." He flicked his wand to close and seal the door, and with a smile, said, "This is an unexpected benefit. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Malfoy shook her head as she smoothed her skirt to sit, "Not even the social niceties, Cornelius? Flitwick must have skipped that at Hogwarts. At least in Slytherin we learned to offer a cuppa before we slit throats."

"Ah, but you're not a Slytherin now, are you, Miss Malfoy?" Fudge smirked. "How are you enjoying life under Minerva's thumb?" He nodded to the Gryffindor tie and patch the girl wore on her school jumper. Waving his hand, he asked, "What do you have for me?"

"I've uncovered your spy ring for you," Malfoy said. "Really, don't you check your staff?" Fudge sat up, "...including the spymaster, who is incidentally the same person who tried to kill you."

"Edward never mentioned any of this..." Fudge breathed.

"Oh, really? Who's been receiving his mail since his untimely death?"

"Weasley, of course," the Minister said. "Since I've only him and Dolores I trust, beside you, I haven't many options. We must destroy Wayne, Potter and Dumbledore before they bring down my Ministry. Why, who knows what might happen?"

'_Someone competent is elected?_' Malfoy thought, while she nodded sympathetically. "And where is Weasley?" she asked.

"I sent him to Germany to recover some vampire gold," the Minister said. "He's been having a spot of difficulty with them, according to his owls."

"You can recall him," Lucille said, levitating a transfer receipt. "That gold should keep you going for another few months."

"I'll send him an owl tonight," the Minister promised. "Now, who are the spies? Who has betrayed me?" He leaned forward, catching up a quill.

"I'll give you one now, we'll see how you do with her arrest and interrogation," the young girl said with a faint smile. "Your blonde secretary isn't as stupid as she looks. She's reporting to the Pimpernel."

------------------------  
**_Friday, January 28, 2000:  
West London, Shepherd's Bush: 18:35  
_**------------------------

The door to the inexpensive flat crashed open, startling the young woman sitting at the kitchen table. As the DMLE guarded her with wands drawn, Minister Fudge strolled in, smirking. "Mary Sue, how could you? I trusted you, I gave you everything."

"Everything but my self-respect, you bloody tosser," she sneered. "You think I actually _enjoyed_ your sick sex games? A sadistic bitch like Umbridge won't get anything out of me!" she said, throwing her quill at one guard as she grabbed another's wand. Pointing it at herself, she said, '_Avada Kedavra_'.

"Drat," Secretary Umbridge complained as the secretary's body thumped to the floor. "I was so looking forward to interrogating her. Search the flat, and you," she pointed her wand at the unfortunate guard, '_Crucio_!'"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 29, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 07:47  
_**------------------------

Lee looked up from the Prophet, saying, "Fudge is taking credit for breaking a spy ring in 'the heart of the Ministry'" He says 'an arrest and execution of the 'terrorist Pimpernel' is imminent.'

Charlie snorted, "Fudge can't find his arse without a guidebook and a 'Point me' spell."

"Speaking of whom," Felicia said, as a familiar (and newly replaced) green bowler entered the Great Hall, followed by a squad of DMLE thugs. People started to stand, and wands were drawn. The DMLE took positions next to the door, and around the Minister. Fudge smiled, motioning people down, saying, "I've come to arrest a dangerous terrorist. I have reason to believe that," he pointed at Mattie, "Wayne over there is the Pimpernel. If she doesn't surrender peacefully, I'll have to start by arresting her friends." He glowered at Sprink, "Starting with her pet werewolf."

Mattie slowly stood, and said, "I'm not the Pimpernel, Minister, but I'll go if you leave my friends alone."

"Really, Minister, has London addled what little brains you had?" Severus said as he stood. "If you're looking for the Pimpernel, here I am."

"Professor, you don't have to protect me," Sprink said, rising. "I'm the one they want, I'm the Pimpernel."

"Bollocks," Abby Michaels said from Hufflepuff. "You want the Pimpernel, here I am."

"Who else knows more about Anagallis arvensis?" Professor Sprout said as she stood. "I'm the Pimpernel."

"Now, Professor, please," Charlie Adams said. "The Minister wants to question the Pimpernel, here I am."

"I appreciate you lot doing this, but it's really not necessary," Harry Spencer said, standing at the Gryffindor table. "My father, brother and Gran understand why I had to become the Pimpernel."

"Your Gran?" Fudge blinked in confusion. Harry simply pointed at her portrait.

"Now really, this is unnecessary," the Headmaster stood as he said, "Cornelius, you want the Pimpernel, well, here I am."

"Now, Albus, you've always been a sweet man, but you don't need to do this," Minerva said as she stood. "Close your mouth, Minister, you'll draw flies." She settled her shawl, adding, "You were looking for the Pimpernel?"

Minister Fudge was becoming more and more infuriated. "Arrest... ARREST THEM ALL!" he bellowed.

The leftenant stood from his place at the end of the High Table. "Now, Minister, I don't see what the problem is. If Miss Wayne is not this Pimpernel person, than her examination by the Ministry should produce no difficulties," he said primly. He advanced toward the Slytherin table, adding, "Come along, Miss Wayne."

Sprink transformed, and gave a blood-curdling howl, followed seconds later by Amy, Jeremy and finally, Felicia. Vaulting the table, she charged at the leftenant, while the other three charged the Minister.

The Cortez twins glanced at each other; then headed for the dozen or so DMLE thugs that had encircled the Minister as the High Table at their backs quickly emptied, the three werewolves snarling as they circled. As they passed, they picked up bits of cutlery to throw. "We're going to have to get proper throwing knives," one twin told her sister. She nodded, "Think Wayne would like a shopping trip?" she asked as she threw a butter knife at a thug, who dropped his guard, leaving an opening for Amy, who lunged.

The leftenant was wrestling with Sprink while two thugs tried to help him, when Mattie arrived. With a couple kicks, the thugs were disabled, and Sprink leaped away, grinning wolfishly at Lee, who had arrived with Emma and the Quidditch team, wands drawn.

Mattie took a ready stance, waiting politely as the Leftenant regained his feet. "Perhaps you're unaware that the Minister has tried several times to kill me, Leftenant. I'll forgive your ignorance. You can either join me or sit out this little fight."

"Once again, Miss Wayne, you say nothing but lies. I find it impossible to give any credence to your wild tales of Ministry corruption and murder. I must support the Minister; he is our properly elected representative to Parliament and the Queen. Now, come along quietly."

"You've been away too long, Leftenant, you ought to listen to what your colleagues in the staff room are saying," Mattie replied. "Once again, I give you the choice to sit this out if you won't join me."

"I seem to be the only one able to make you see reason, Miss Wayne," the leftenant said, taking a ready stance. "The Headmaster and Professor Snape seem to have bought into your lies. I must support the Queen and her government."

"Oh, I support the Queen, she's a very nice lady," Mattie said as she started to circle. "Don't you find it interesting that her grandson supports me?"

"Nevertheless, Minister Fudge is the properly elected representative to the Crown," Leftenant Martin replied as he slowly circled. "The wizarding population of Great Britain must decide as to his fitness. Until then, he has declared you and this Pimpernel person criminals, I must do my duty as a Queen's officer to support him."

"'_Stupefy!_' Arthur shouted, stunning the Leftenant. He glared at Mattie, "We don't have time for you two to have a pissing contest." Sprink shoved him out of the way of a hex, and he nodded thanks to her, "We're a bit busy right now. Do it on your own time."

The outnumbered DMLE was fighting a defensive battle when Mattie started to work her way toward them. They managed to land a few curses on her, including a rather nasty cutting hex to her left shoulder. Lee Fook teamed up with Mattie, Arthur and Sprink as they worked their way through the thugs guarding the door.

Minister Fudge ducked an incoming hex, left hand holding his green bowler, the right his wand. He winced, waving his left hand as another curse scored the top of the hat, setting a small fire to the tablecloth behind him. "You might try using your wand, Minister!" an irritated DMLE guard called to him, casting a shield charm. Cornelius grimaced, '_This is not going at ALL to plan!_' he thought, despite the unexpected attempt of the Royal Marine officer. He glanced over at that particular fight, seeing the officer go down. '_I would have thought fifty-to-one odds sufficient to arrest Wayne,_' he mused. '_Apparently not. No wonder Lucius had so many problems last year. _'

"Minister, we must leave!" the commander of his DMLE force called. "We'll try to work ..." a stunner from one of the students knocked him out. '_That makes sense. Consolidate our forces._' "Come along now," he called. "Let's move over near the door. Then we can arrest Wayne, Dumbledore, and all of the werewolves." One of the crouching 'wolves popped into human form, his former god-daughter Felicia asking plaintively, "Why, Uncle Cornelius?"

"You're a criminal, girl. Do you think I want to be linked to you?" Fudge snapped, as he fired a stunner at her. She jumped out of the way, transforming back to her wolf form, as the small group started to work its way toward the door, leaving the unconscious bodies of the others behind.

Charlie Adams crouched behind the Slytherin table, as Amanda asked, "Ready?" He nodded, throwing a bit of crockery at the crouching DMLE guards near the door. The teapot shattered on the wall, raining hot tea on two or three guards, who yelped, dropping their guards for a second or two. Amanda and Andrew fired precise stunners, dropping one of them.

"And this is why we have the DA," Abby Michaels said to Daphne and Stephanie, shielding the two firsties from a flying hex. Beside her, Eleanor Branstone added, "It's fun, too." She peeked over the Hufflepuff table; then fired a curse at one of Fudge's guards. The thug yelped, and grabbed his calf where the trouser leg flapped over the cut, his left hand bloody.

Jeremy growled as a curse singed his flank, looking back toward the Gryffindor table. Someone called; "Sorry!" and he wagged his tail in acceptance. "Another pain in the arse about being a 'wolf," he growled in wolvish, "is that you can't Bite someone, and you can't do magic."

"Isn't that the truth," Amy Johnson yipped in reply. "You've got to be a really big, mean dog."

Felicia growled, "I was wondering. You mean I can't Bite Uncle Cornelius?"

"Unfortunately not," Amy replied. "Not even close. No, what we have to do is to break their defenses physically, and then someone else will curse them."

"As a 'wolf, you're immune to most hexes and curses," Jeremy explained. "It might sting a bit, like that curse did me, but it won't really hurt you. Just make sure you're not shielding the bloke you're attacking."

"Like this," Amy said, leaping at a rather large woman, knocking her off balance and disrupting her shielding charm. A stunner zipped in from Ravenclaw, grazing Amy and knocking out the guard. She looked over her shoulder at her housemates, grinning and wagging her tail.

The three of the original dozen guards with the Minister were now within a few yards of the half-dozen others stubbornly holding a position near the doors. With a series of yips, the four werewolves took a position next to the doors, when Fudge stood up and shot sparks from his wand. The flying curses died off, and he adjusted his robes, asking, "Well, Mr. Dumbledore, are you and Miss Wayne prepared to surrender yourselves to me?"

"On what charge, Cornelius?" the Headmaster inquired gently.

"Committing acts of sedition and treason against the government, as the terrorist known as the Pimpernel," the Minister stated pompously.

"Ah, but I do not recognize you as my government, Cornelius. Nor do a great many witches and wizards. Instead, I recognize, and abide by, the laws of Great Britain as passed by Her Majesty's government, which do allow for self-defense." He peered over his half-moon spectacles, "Surely you recall this from last year's Declaration of Separation? A great number of witches and wizards have endorsed it, even if you have not."

"What Declaration? I have no idea what you're talking about, Dumbledore. Is that how you've managed to steal my tax revenue?"

The Headmaster sighed, "I have not stolen your taxes, Cornelius; we have arranged other sources of funding. People do not see why they should pay high taxes to you for a government that abuses their trust, arrests them without cause and ignores their will. They therefore are more than happy to pay the muggle Exchequer a lower rate for services. Surely you've seen the SAS troops guarding the streets of Hogsmeade and Diagon and Knockturn Alleys?"

As Fudge sputtered, Dumbledore turned, asking the Great Hall, "Has anyone a copy of the Declaration that we might pass on to Minister Fudge? It seems it never reached the first floor of the Ministry."

"I think I do, Headmaster," Stephanie said from Hufflepuff. "One moment, please," as she dug through her book bag, with an "Ah! Here we are!" she extracted a slightly battered copy; then blushed. "I ran out of parchment, so I used the back for notes. Sorry."

"Nae problem, lil' one," Frank's voice rumbled from Slytherin. With a wave of his wand, he copied her notes to a fresh scroll, handing it to her, and the Declaration to the Headmaster.

"Thank you, Mr. MacDonald, Miss Keyes," the Headmaster said politely. He advanced into the middle of the guards, fuchsia robes immaculate, offering the Declaration to the Minister. "I do hope you take the time to consider this carefully, Cornelius. As I have said before, there are a great number of our citizens unhappy with your Ministry, and for specific reasons. I trust you will take the appropriate actions, hmm?" He turned his back on the Minister and the DMLE, adding to the Great Hall, "While we have had an exciting morning, we are a school, even on a Saturday. Rough and tumble should be confined to the pitch, where it belongs, not in the middle of breakfast."

One of the guards shouted to Dumbledore's retreating back, "What about our mates?"

The Headmaster turned, "Those requiring medical assistance will receive it, Mr. Lucas, and then they will be returned. Good day."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 29, 2000:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Leftenant Martin's flat: 16:18  
_**------------------------

Paul put his book down with a sigh. When he had woken up in the Infirmary, he had spent a few minutes listening to the DMLE guards around him. It shocked him to hear them complain about the Minister and 'that bloody bitch Umbridge'. When he had asked questions, he had found that the complaints about the Ministry were justified, the only reason most of the troops stayed was the steady Ministry paycheque in uncertain financial times.

"Even that's not worth much these days," one grizzled sergeant complained. "Now, th' only people makin' any money are connected wi' Wayne. If'n I didn' work such a staggered shift, I'd look into workin' for them on the side."

"But isn't Wayne the Pimpernel?" he had asked, receiving several guffaws.

"Look, mate, we 'preciate what y' tried to do for us, really we do," the sergeant said. "Aye, Wayne's bloody rich, but she don' rub y' nose in it, like Malfoy does. Did, rather, since he's dead 'n gone in Azkaban. Nae, she's nae 'fraid tae ge' her hands dirty, an' when the Ministry prats cut fundin' f' Hogwarts, she stepped up tae help out. I say 'Good f' her', and as long as the Pimpernel is givin' Fudge ulcers, I say 'Good f' him!'" He leaned over, "Did y' see tha' article in tha' Reporter about her auntie bein' kidnapped by Fudge?"

The leftenant nodded, and the sergeant continued, "Jonesy 'ere was on that detail. Wot ye' see, mate?"

"Bad bit of business, that," Jonesy said. "I gave my oath to the Ministry, so off I went with the Minister for my duty. I'll say that I've never heard of Wayne, or the Pimpernel, using the bloody Unforgivables. Any of you lot?" The other guards muttered they hadn't. "Fudge, Umbridge and Weasley, though, use 'em, and they're not shy about it. Anyways, me and Scorfino, he's off today, we're wrestling Wayne's auntie out the door of the staff room. Now, Fudge has already stunned all three of us, because he's such a poor wizard, so he wakes me and Scorfino up, we do a body bind on Ms. Lane, cause we hear she's a regular hellcat, and we start to float her out."

"Well, Wayne comes up the corridor from the Slytherin dorms, sees us, shouts for her auntie, and tries to rescue her. Nothing any one of us wouldn't do," Jonesy says, with general agreement. "Harry _bloody_ Potter is behind her, and I'm thinking my goose is well and truly cooked, as I don't want to fight someone who took out the Dark Lord."

"Did Fudge actually claim any one of us could have taken out You-Know-Who?"

"Aye, and Scorfino and I are looking at him like he's off his rocker. FUDGE may not have tangled with the bloody Death Eaters, but _we_ have," Jonesy continued. "Anyway, we're getting the auntie out so Fudge can ship her off to Azkaban. I'm hoping Wayne can stop us, I know I won't put up much of a fight. Her aunt is just doing her job, asking questions of Fudge that we'd all like to know. Did you lot know that our Fudgie's drawing two healthy pay packets? One as Minister; and one for the Wizengamot?" Several of them growled or snorted disgust. "I don't know how she knew that, but she had it spot on by Fudgie's reaction. Speaking of whom, he sees Wayne, whips out his wand, and starts to duel her, and she's hopping about like a demented snitch."

"I remember that," one guard said. "She did the same thing when that right bastard Hansen tried to arrest her best mate. I remember pawing through the Hufflepuff dorms, looking for the poor girl. So, what did Wayne do?"

"One moment, please," the leftenant said. "That actually happened? Wayne wasn't having me on?"

"It happened," the guard said. "The Minister came up with some cockup plan to make money by arresting werewolves. I've never figured it out; everyone knows that werewolves got no gold. So Wayne stands and fights for her best mate like she should while the girl is taken and hidden somewhere. She's standing three feet in front of Hansen, insulting him, and he can't hit her. He's about to cast the Cruciatus on her, students are flinging curses at us, and she conjures a bloody HUGE snake on us."

"Fudge, on the other hand, casts Cruciatus on her the first chance he has," Jonesy said. "He's standing, smiling and holding the curse on her, she's screaming and flopping about like a landed fish, and then she starts to crawl toward him. Blood is on her face, she gets to within ten feet or so of the Minister..."

"While he's holding the curse?" the leftenant said, appalled.

"While he's holding the curse," Jonesy confirmed. "He's scared, his hand is shaking, but all he can think is to hold the curse. She struggles to her knees, and pulls out a knife from somewhere. Fudge loses control, we could smell him fouling his trousers, breaks the curse and runs, and we follow with auntie."

"Fudge cast crucio on a **_second-year_** and held it?"

"For three, four minutes," Jonesy confirmed. "And he's our Minister."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, January 29, 2000:  
London, Diagon Alley, Highfield's Haberdashery: 17:29  
_**------------------------

The bell over the door tinkled gently, and the clerk looked up, "Ah, Minister Fudge. One moment, please, I shall fetch Mr. Highfield." He disappeared in the back as the Minister slumped into a chair.

"Minister Fudge, how pleasant to see you again," Jonathan Highfield told his distinguished client. "You look all done in. Would you care for a spot of tea?"

"Thank you, Jonathan that would be wonderful." A house-elf appeared, and the Minister smacked his lips appreciatively. (Mr. Highfield repressed a shudder. '_How gauche!_' he thought.) He sighed, "I am in need of another hat, Jonathan."

"Perhaps another suit, and a matching robe as well?" Mr. Highfield suggested, nodding at the ripped sleeves and trouser leg. "What have you been doing, Minister? Playing rugby with the muggles?"

"Almost," the Minister admitted with a tired smile. "I went to Hogwarts to arrest Wayne, you know, the "Pimpernel" (he finger quoted), but she resisted. Then Dumbledore stuck his long nose into it, and we lost forty or so DMLE guards. I barely escaped with half a dozen!" He took another sip of tea, adding, "Dumbledore then had the effrontery to force a Declaration of some sort on me! Well, I burned it as soon as we were out the door. Who is he to tell me how to run my Ministry?"

'_Someone you should perhaps listen to?_' Jonathan thought, privately relieved that Fudge had burnt the Declaration. He would lose the man's business if he had seen his signature on the document. Fudge was a fool, of course, but a well-paying fool. "Of course, of course," he soothed. "Dumbledore may run a school, what does he know about running a Ministry?"

"Exactly!" Fudge sat up, spilling his tea. "I have so many budget problems; it's difficult to keep things running! Why, monthly tax revenue is down..."

Jonathan let him natter on, inserting the occasional 'Tisk, tisk,' and 'Umm' to keep him babbling. Not for a minute did he believe little Mattie Wayne was the infamous Pimpernel. While certainly wealthy (her brother, uncle and father had bought suits from him), he had no contact with her, not catering to the ladies' trade. Indeed, his fellow merchants claimed she was something of a tomboy, playing Quidditch on her house team.

He also read the Reporter, and while he was careful to keep it in the back room (lest it disturb his high-born clients), he found the reporting far more accurate and balanced than the Prophet. '_Yes, Minister, you do have problems,_' he thought as he poured another cup of tea.

------------------------


	20. Interlude Four, Second year

(A/N: Since FF Net is "touchy" about author's notes in the chapters, I've been posting replies to questions as a signed review.)

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
20 – Interlude Four, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Monday, February 28, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 08:20  
_**------------------------

The new blonde secretary stood as Mackrack, head of the goblins, strolled past her desk, two of his security goblins taking up position outside the door.

"Mister Mackrack, what can I do for you?" Fudge asked, swallowing nervously.

"As you're an important client, I've come to deliver a friendly warning, Minister Fudge," Mackrack said, taking a seat and showing a mouthful of pointed teeth. "When Vice-minister Hansen signed a note for the Ministry, he was agreeing to regular payments, which have not been made since November."

"I... I knew nothing of this," Fudge sputtered.

"Perhaps," Mackrack said. "Perhaps," He snapped his fingers, and a goblin came forward, offering a briefcase. Mackrack extracted a document, dropping it on Fudge's desk as he stood to leave. "Normally, we would send a note at ninety days past due, however, given your status, I have decided to give you a personal call. If I were you, I would inquire as to why you were not informed at the thirty and sixty day points, as Mr. Hansen's death does not void the obligation. I've taken the liberty of doing up a copy of the note for you. I would like to remind you that you are liable for the note, foreknowledge or not. If you persist in non-payment, we shall have to foreclose on the collateral."

"We're a government!" Fudge shouted, standing. "You can't foreclose!"

"We have a contractual relationship, Minister. Of course we can, just like we did with the French in 1805," Mackrack said coolly. He nodded politely, adding, "Good day."

------------------------  
**_Monday, February 28, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Greenhouse One: 12:03  
_**------------------------

Lee Fook was puzzled. She dawdled after class, as the rest of the firsties filed quietly out into the snow. Professor Sprout looked up at her, asking, "What can I do for you, dear?"

"Well... I'm not quite sure how to ask this, so..." Lee hugged her robes around her (the greenhouses were chilly), "Have you noticed everyone seems to be, well, off?"

Pomona regarded her, then said, "Come into my office, dear. You could use some tea." Closing the door, the Professor asked, "Why didn't you ask Professor Snape about this?"

"Well, he... he seems affected too. He almost made a mistake in class last Thursday, but Koslowski stopped him." She sat back, and said, "She normally wouldn't have, but it was her cauldron, and she would have been injured." Lee took a sip of tea, "Koslowski seems to be the only other normal person, besides you and I, Professor."

"Hagrid also, but you don't have him until third year," Pomona mused. "He's half-giant, so he's a special case. However, even the house elves are affected, and they're a separate species. A wizarding disease, or even a muggle one, wouldn't affect them, and vice-versa." She sighed, "We can't approach the Ministry, they'd use this as an excuse to close the school and save gold. It looks like it's up to you and I and Miss Koslowski to solve this."

"You and I, professor. I don't trust Koslowski at all, she's, well, I can't tell you why, but I don't trust her," Lee said emphatically. "What about the ghosts?"

"Any knowledge they might have about 'live-un's' is years out of date, and they tend to forget that information," the professor answered. She sipped her tea; then put it down with a click. "I'm going to give you a pass for the restricted section of the library." She started to write, adding, "Be careful, some of those books are physically dangerous, but I think we're dealing with a Dark charm or spell of some kind. If you're not sure about something, ask Hagrid or myself before you proceed." She tore off the parchment, adding, "Keep this to yourself, dear. I'll see what I can do about getting some unofficial help."

------------------------  
**_Monday, February 28, 2000:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 19:07 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

Selina Wayne's laptop 'dinged', and she paused in changing clothes.

_To: Selina Wayne, Maria Cortez, Julie Fook  
From: Magdalena Morton  
Date: February 28, 2000 19:08:01 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Our children at Hogwarts  
_

_Selina, Maria, Julie:  
I hope I'm being silly, but with recent events at Hogwarts and that fool of a Minister, well... While Arthur isn't the most verbal of sons, lately he's become positively monosyllabic in his very infrequent emails. Before I start to panic, I'm wondering what your girls are like – is it just Arthur? _

"Bruce – it's not just Mattie that's acting strangely," Selina called. He walked over and zipped her dress without asking, as he read the email over her shoulder. He grunted, and walked over to the phone as another email came in.

_To: Selina Wayne, Julie Fook, Magdalena Morton  
From: Maria Cortez  
Date: February 28, 2000 19:08:42 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Re: Our children at Hogwarts  
_

_We thought it was just the twins. What do we do?  
Maria_

_To: Selina Wayne, Maria Cortez, Magdalena Morton  
From: Julie Fook  
Date: February 28, 2000 19:09:13 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Re: Re: Our children at Hogwarts  
_

_Everyone:  
I haven't noticed that in Lee, although she hasn't written as often as when it was all new to her. She did mention that people seemed a bit 'slower' (to use her term), but it was an offhand comment, which I attributed to post-holiday blues and the horrible Scottish weather. _

_You may know that I got her a laptop (secondhand from the Times), and a digital camera. Her first emails back had so many photos attached, I thought the server would explode! Now, she still writes, but once a week at most, and photos? Fuhgetaboutit!  
Julie  
_

_PS: Maggie – see if you can do a favor or two to the computer guys at the University. They'll know about upcoming disposals, and unlike underpaid journalists such as moi, they DO take bribes – especially if they're fresh-baked! _

_To: Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Magdalena Morton  
From: Selina Wayne  
Date: February 28, 2000 19:10:58 (GMT-5)  
Subject: RE: Re: Re: Our children at Hogwarts  
_

_All right, we've got a bigger problem. Bruce is on the phone now with Dr. Phillips, our family physician. We'll email Sheila, Lois and the Weasleys in London, see if there's anything going on that we're not aware of. Remember, they're five hours ahead of us, so we might not get a reply until tomorrow. Of course, we'll keep you informed. _

_I'm going to clear our calendars for this weekend, you might want to do the same. If it's nothing, we can fly over to "watch a Quidditch game". If not, we'll be there. _

_We've got to be out tonight for a social thing we can't get out of. We'll escape as soon as possible and update you. Please keep us informed as well.  
Selina _

_To: Sheila Hawking (London), Lois Lane (London Paper), Fred and George Weasley (London)  
CC: Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Magdalena Morton  
__From: Selina Wayne  
Date: February 28, 2000 19:11:22 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Family at Hogwarts  
_

_Lois, Sheila, Fred & George:  
__We've noticed that our children haven't been behaving normally in their correspondence. Is there something going on we should be aware of?_

_We're clearing our calendars for this weekend. If it's nothing, we'll enjoy a Quidditch game with our children. If not, well, let us know, would you?  
Selina Wayne_

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, February 29, 2000:  
London, 93 Diagon Alley, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes: 06:07 (GMT)  
_**------------------------

George Weasley stumbled down the stairs from the loft he shared with Fred and Ron, and headed for the automatic teakettle. '_A simple timer_' he marveled again at the muggle contraption, pouring, and looking in the battered 'fridge for milk. '_What would it take for magic?_' he mused, still somewhat bleary. Flipping on their new compulator, he started to sort out the till for the morning routine.

"Oy, George, take a look at this, got a letter from Mrs. Wayne," Fred said, tea in hand as he leaned over the machine.

"What's it say?" Ron asked, sniffing the lemon juice before adding it to his cup.

"Um, asks if there's something going on at Hogwarts," Fred paraphrased. "How have Ginny and Harry been?"

The three looked at each other. "Ginny... she seemed a little off to me," George said slowly. "I thought it was just being a new mum. Harry, well, I haven't seen him in a month or so."

"I thought he was still a bit depressed," Ron offered, "The whole 'didn't protect my wife' guilt thing he had around New Years."

"Why, Ronniekins! That's almost observant of you!" Fred teased. He sobered, "Do we have anything scheduled to go up to Hogsmeade?"

"They've been having a run on Blood Pops," George said, finishing the deposit. "I'll poke my head in Blaise' shop on the way back from Gringotts, see what she and Hermione think. Fred, why don't you plan to take Ian out to lunch, and bring a few cases of Blood Pops with you? He's still got his brother there, doesn't he?"

"Frank," Fred nodded. "Let me reply to Mrs. Wayne, then, while Ronniekins opens up."

_To: Selina Wayne  
CC: Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Magdalena Morton, Sheila Hawking, Lois Lane  
__From: Weasley's Wheeze, London  
Date: 29 February, 2000 06:22:57 (GMT)  
Subject: Re: Family at Hogwarts  
_

_Mrs. Wayne:  
__Now that you mention it, Ginny has been a bit off. We though it was simply her being a new mum. Harry we haven't seen for a month or so, but at the time he seemed to be a bit depressed. _

_One of our mates in Hogsmeade, Ian MacDonald, has a younger brother still at Hogwarts. I'll take him out to lunch; see if he's noticed anything unusual and let you know. This morning, George will pop by the apothecary to talk to Hermione Granger, our resident Potion Mistress, to see if she has any thoughts. _

_Hopefully there's nothing wrong except the weather (they had another ten centimeters of snow last night in Inverness, according to the wireless). That can be a bit depressing, even more so in the Hufflepuff and Slytherin dorms, which are underground. _

_Hopefully this is much ado about nothing, and you'll have a bit of holiday with us this weekend in Scotland watching a Quidditch match.  
Fred Weasley _

_To: Magdalena Morton  
From: Robert Adams  
Date: 29 February, 2000 07:05:22 (GMT)  
Subject: Our sons  
_

_Mrs. Morton:  
Please forgive the intrusion, but I was hoping you had heard from your son Arthur recently. My son Charles was such a regular correspondent, you could set your watch by his e-mails. Recently, nothing. _

_Have you heard from your son or any of his friends recently? I grow concerned. _

_To: Robert Adams  
CC: Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Selina Wayne, Sheila Hawking (London), Fred and George Weasley (London), Lois Lane (London)  
__From: Magdalena Morton  
Date: February 29, 2000 12:14:44 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Our family members at Hogwarts  
_

_Mr. Adams:  
As you can see from the CC line, you're not alone. Our children's correspondence has changed character and dropped off recently. _

_We have been discussing a visit to Hogwarts this coming weekend, allegedly to watch a Quidditch match. We can then investigate and determine the truth. _

_To: Robert Adams  
CC: Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Lois Lane (London Paper), Sheila Hawking (London), Magdalena Morton, Fred and George Weasley (London) __From: Selina Wayne  
Date: February 29, 2000 12:20:06 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Re: Our family members at Hogwarts  
_

_Mr. Adams:  
__Our flight will arrive at London Gatwick's private terminals Friday the third about 14:00 London time, and we will then fly up to Inverness. If you can meet Lois, Sheila, and the Weasleys there, it would be appreciated. _

_The headmaster has not replied to my email regarding accommodations. If necessary, we'll camp out in the snow! _

_To: Selina Wayne  
CC: Robert Adams, Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Lois Lane, Sheila Hawking, Magdalena Morton  
__From: Weasley's Wheeze, London  
Date: 29 February, 2000 14:26:02 (GMT)  
Subject: Re: Re: Our family members at Hogwarts  
_

_Mrs. Wayne:  
I discussed this with my mate Ian, his brother Frank has been, well, indifferent is the best I can phrase it. Not at all like him. I think our worry is justified, as they would normally be full of plans regarding the upcoming match with Hufflepuff. (Frank is one of Slytherin's Beaters. They're both enormous fellows, if you haven't met them.) _

_You will certainly NOT camp in the snow! While accommodations might be a bit cramped, if worst comes to it, you are welcome to doss down at our Hogsmeade shop, and while the town inspector hasn't yet licensed our cafe next door, we do have the keys and the heater does work! _

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 1, 2000:  
Hogwarts, staff room: 07:29  
_**------------------------

Pomona pulled Hagrid aside just before he entered. "Hagrid," she whispered, "During the meeting, very casually, I'm going to ask everyone to sing the school song. What would normally happen?"

"Well, P'fessor Snape would snort, make a sarcastic comment, and refuse to participate, P'fessor Flitwick would try to jolly him into it, and P'fessor Dumbledore would lead us." He eyed her, "Summat to do with what's g'in on about here?"

"I think so. I think there's some Dark spell that makes everyone very suggestible. Not quite the Imperious, but close. By the by, Miss Fook is with us, I've got her seeing what she can find in the Restricted Section. Don't trust Miss Koslowski, though."

"Aye," he rumbled as he opened the door, "After you, P'fessor."

------------------------

After only a few minutes, Albus stood to dismiss the meeting, when Pomona said, "I had a request. I'd like everyone to sing the school song, right now."

Severus Snape smiled, and in a pleasant baritone, followed by the others in a fair chorus, sang a capella:

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
__Teach us something, please,  
__Whether we be old and bald  
__Or young with scabby knees,  
__Our heads could do with filling  
__With some interesting stuff,  
__For now they're bare and full of air,  
__Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
__So teach us things worth knowing,  
__Bring back what we've forgot,  
__Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
__And learn until our brains all rot.  
_  
Pomona glanced at Hagrid, and said, "Severus, I think a nice green shirt would look good on you, and please wash your hair."

Severus smiled, and nodded, "Of course, my friend. Right away."

------------------------

"Interestin'," Hagrid rumbled outside the staff room. "Now what d' we do?"

"I'm not sure," Pomona mused, as she walked with him. "I think it's something in the castle, so I think I'll stay out of it as much as possible. After that, I don't know." She sighed, "I've got some people I can write to, maybe they have an idea."

------------------------

_To: Selina Wayne  
From: Pomona Sprout  
Date: 1 March, 2000 07:56:20 (GMT)  
Subject: Mystery at Hogwarts  
_

_Mrs. Wayne:  
Severus has informed Filius Flitwick and I of your acquaintance with a detective. We find ourselves in need of their services, and cannot refer this to the Ministry. _

_Hogwarts seems to be in the grip of a strange lassitude, which crosses species lines – the House Elves are affected by it as well. It is characterized by a suggestibility that is out of character. As an example, in the staff meeting this morning, quite out of the blue, I suggested we sing the school song. Severus would have normally scoffed at this, refusing to participate. Instead, he immediately started, in a very pleasant baritone, followed almost immediately and in chorus by the entire staff present. _

_Currently, the only persons not affected by this seems to be myself, Mr. Hagrid, Miss Lee Fook, and Miss Constance Koslowski. As we do not trust Miss Koslowski (she has been a 'difficult' student), I have asked and authorized Miss Fook to research any type of Dark spell or charm, but she is a first-year student, and lacks experience. _

_We are open to suggestions as to lines of research. Your help would be greatly appreciated.  
Pomona Sprout _

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 1, 2000:  
London, The Wizarding Reporter, Managing editor's office: 08:20  
_**------------------------

"Got a minute, chief?" the CFO asked, knocking on Lois' doorframe.

"Don't call me 'chief'," Lois snapped, looking away from her email, then shook herself; smiled, and said, "Sorry, Jack. There's a problem with my god-daughter Mattie at Hogwarts, it has me pre-occupied. What can I do for you?"

"I've got the monthly budget figures, and I thought I'd give a bit of warning," he said, closing the door. "Revenues from adverts are not quite covering expenses. I know we've got a reserve fund, but I'm hesitant to tap that." Lois nodded, "I've come up with different options, but they will cause pain. Our per-issue costs per copy average five knuts," he said as he took a seat. "Advert income is three and a bit. We can either institute higher advert rates, which will affect our advertisers like the Weasleys, or implement subscription rates. If we do subscriptions, we can do a monthly rate of seven sickles, which would also cover the odd special edition."

"God love the Weasleys," Lois said with a smile. "What would you prefer?"

"I'd raise rates on display adverts fifteen percent, keeping the classifieds at a sickle a day, and have subscriptions for the month at seven sickles for daily delivery. We can also do a 'weekend only' rate at five sickles. This will give a small but healthy profit margin," the accountant suggested. "The classifieds are actually one of our moneymakers; their cost per advert is only six knuts."

"Hmm. What about a 'classified-only' type magazine?" Lois asked. "I've seen them around, they're popular. Give them away for free; offer our current classified advertisers the option to extend the circulation with it for only a bit more, and publish them once a week or so." She steepled her hands, "Can you run some numbers for me; have them by the board meeting?"

"Certainly," Jack said, wandering out in a daze as Lois chuckled to herself.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 1, 2000:  
London, The Wizarding Reporter, Boardroom: 08:43  
_**------------------------

"Thank you, Rita," Lois said politely to the 'Lifestyles' editor. Personally, she wondered at the witch's taste. "I had Jack look into an idea for me. Our classified advertising section is one of our more profitable departments. With our excess printing capacity, I was thinking we could produce a weekly flyer of classifieds, giving them away for free while increasing our circulation. Jack?"

"Ahem. Yes, chief. As you're all aware, our classifieds cost us six knuts to produce, while we charge a sickle a day. If we implement the chief's plan, our costs will rise to nine knuts, and we can charge one and fifteen for the wider-circulation adverts. This will maintain roughly the same profit margin as we've seen before with the classifieds. I'm sure that the usual places that have the Reporter available will also carry them, especially if we offer them a discount on their own adverts."

"Will that cover our increased costs for the paper in general?" Lois asked.

"No, however, if we move to a subscription plan, we can do so," Jack said, taking a sip of tea. "The Prophet charges eight knuts a day for their subscription. With the additional advert revenue, we can undercut them at a daily rate of seven knuts, or a monthly rate of six and fifteen."

"Comments? Suggestions?" Lois asked. "All right, Jack. Get together with Winnie in operations and come up with a detailed plan and some drafts for us in..." she flipped through her day-timer, "two weeks." She made a note, adding, "Now, one of the things that muggle newspaper readers get passionate about are comics. People like to start the day with a chuckle. While we've got our editorial cartoons, I'd like to see what people think about a page of comics, which are traditionally placed on the back of the lifestyle section." She took a sip of coffee, asking, "Thoughts?"

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 1, 2000:  
Gotham City, Wayne Manor: 13:07 (GMT-5)  
_**------------------------

"Well, now, this is interesting," Selina said, looking at the message. She sipped her coffee and replied:

_To: Pomona Sprout  
CC: Robert Adams, Maria Cortez, Julie Fook, Lois Lane (London Paper), Sheila Hawking (London), Magdalena Morton, Fred and George Weasley (London)  
BCC: Bruce Wayne (Corp), Babs  
__From: Selina Wayne  
Date: March 1, 2000 13:12:06 (GMT-5)  
Subject: Our family members at Hogwarts  
_

_Ms. Sprout:  
Thank you for your message. We have similar theories, based on the change in communication patterns with our family members at Hogwarts. Currently, our plans are to arrive by jet in London about 14:00 on Friday the 3rd, when we will pick up the London contingent, then fly everyone to Inverness, and thence to Hogsmeade. _

_Our research includes the possibility of a biological or chemical attack vector of some sort, either water or airborne. We will be bringing equipment to test for this contaminant. The Weasleys will include Ms. Granger, a Potion Mistress, to test for a potion contaminant. _

_Mr. West will be joining us from the Grosvenor Square embassy. He will be flooing directly to the Weasley shop in Hogsmeade, and he indicated other interested parties would meet him there. _

_Please let us know of any developments,  
Selina Wayne _

Pomona Sprout let out the breath she was holding. '_Merlin, I hadn't thought of that,_' she thought, as she forwarded the email:

_To: Lee Fook, Rubeus Hagrid  
From: Pomona Sprout  
Date: March 1, 2000 18:17:02 (GMT)  
Subject: FW: Our family members at Hogwarts  
_

_Miss Fook,  
The original message I received was copied to a 'Julie Fook', presumably your mum, so we should see her on Friday afternoon. I don't know how long this 'jet' Mrs. Wayne mentions will take to go from London to Hogwarts, its several hours by broom. _

_> Ms. Sprout:  
> Thank you for your message. We have similar theories, based on the change in communication patterns with our family members at Hogwarts. Currently, our plans are to arrive by jet in London about 14:00 on Friday the 3rd, when we will pick up the London contingent, then fly everyone to Inverness, and thence to Hogsmeade. _

_> Our research includes the possibility of a biological or chemical attack vector of some sort, either water or airborne. We will be bringing equipment to test for this contaminant. The Weasleys will include Ms. Granger, a Potion Mistress, to test for a potion contaminant. _

_> Mr. West will be joining us from the Grosvenor Square embassy. He will be flooing directly to the Weasley shop in Hogsmeade, and he indicated other interested parties would meet him there. _

_> Please let us know of any developments,  
> Selina Wayne _

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 3, 2000:  
Hogsmeade, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes: 18:08  
_**------------------------

"Well, now, are we all here?" George asked as the tea set floated about. "Why don't we go 'round the room, give our names and relationships? I'll start, my name is George Weasley, this is my brothers Fred and Ron, and we've got relatives at Hogwarts."

"Ian MacDonald and my parents, my brother Frank's at Hogwarts," he rumbled.

"Dr. Phillips, family physician to the Waynes, my god-daughter's at Hogwarts."

"Clark Kent of the Daily Planet, my god-daughter's at Hogwarts."

"Lois Lane of the Planet and managing editor of the Reporter, my god-daughter Mattie's at Hogwarts."

"Julie Fook of the New York Times, my daughter's right here!" She hugged Lee.

"My name is Beth, I'm Julie's neighbor, and I work for the Central Intelligence Agency." This quiet announcement caused a ripple. "I feel somewhat responsible, I recommended Hogwarts to Julie," Beth added.

"Robert Adams, and my son's at Hogwarts," he said, still a bit shocked over who he was seated next to.

"Most interesting," the thin, dark haired woman said. "Bellatrix Black, mediwitch, and my niece..."

"Bellatrix?" Ron shouted, drawing his wand, only to have it snatched by Sheila. "Ms. _Black_ is here at our invitation, Mr. Weasley. If you cannot control your temper, perhaps you should leave."

"I'll talk to him," George said, taking Ron's wand from Sheila. He frog-marched his brother out the door.

"Interesting indeed," the ancient man said. "I am Mr. West, the chief counsel of the US Embassy, and I am here at the request of the Ambassador."

"Ambassadors and spies... I'm Maggie Morton, and my son is at Hogwarts!"

"You took th' Dark Tosser's Mark," Ian accused Bella. "Slytherin is still payin' for your acts."

"Yes, I did," Bella said, undoing her left sleeve and pushing it up. "Can anyone here say they have not made a mistake in their life? I was fourteen and in love, for Merlin's sake!"

"I made a mistake," Maria Cortez said. "I corrected it when I had two wonderful daughters." She sat next to Bella, and gave her a brief hug. She told the witch, "They told me you were not involved in the trouble last year, that you came to rescue your niece. I do not want your blood; I want the blood of the one named Malfoy that tortured them."

"He's dead," Ian rumbled.

"He was a racist misogynist bastard," Bella said. "He was just as bad as the 'Dark Lord'. I regret I didn't get the chance to give back a little torture myself."

"So, what do we do?" the young, frizzy haired brunette asked. "Oh, I'm Hermione Granger, with the Weasleys, and I'm your Potion Mistress."

"You don't look old enough," Mr. MacDonald rumbled.

"Oh, she's qualified!" Bella said with a dry chuckle. "Severus taught her well."

"Thank you, Ms. Black," Hermione said politely. "I have samples of the water, but I didn't have anything to sample the air."

"When I asked for help, I never quite expected..." Pomona said.

"That's what we do," Julie said. "We figure things out; the end result is just a bit different. Reporters like Mr. Kent, Ms. Lane and myself report the news,"

"Physicians heal the sick," Dr. Phillips said with a nod to Bella,

"And spies like me overthrow governments," Beth said with a laugh. "Although the Pimpernel seems to be doing just fine."

"You don't know who he is?" Fred asked, Beth shook her head. "I've got a theory, but I don't have any interest in jogging his hand." She changed focus, "You said you've got water samples? Well, why don't the sneaky ones like me go get air and food samples while the scientific types check the water and blood?"

"That sounds good," Dr. Phillips said. "We'll need a control group, people that have not been in Hogwarts in, say, the last month. Bella, let's get started drawing blood. Clark, can you and the MacDonalds bring in the equipment?"

------------------------

Beth paused outside the gates, and said, "If this is an environmental contaminant, we obviously don't drink the water. Now, Pomona and I will cast a bubble-head charm on everyone, which will filter your air."

"Albus didn't change the staff password at the beginning of February," Pomona said. "It's still '_rainbow_', which will get you into every place but private offices and staff quarters. If Mrs. Wayne will go with Miss Fook to Slytherin, I'll go with Mr. Kent to Gryffindor..."

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 3, 2000:  
Hogwarts, staff quarters, Potter flat: 18:38  
_**------------------------

Knowing the location and the master passwords of the staff's flats from when she, or rather, Lucius, had been on the school's board of Governors, Lucille entered the Potter flat. Pausing at the infant boy's crib, she whispered, "Soon, boy, soon."

"Soon for what?" a squeaky voice asked. The girl jumped; saying, "Dobby."

"I is Dobby," the elf said. "I is watching the Potter babes."

"Yes, Dobby, you is, err, you are. I need to see Professor Harry."

"Master Harry through there," the elf said.

Lucille nodded, thinking '_Stupid elf,_' as she closed the bedroom door behind her. '_It's taken long enough for the bloody candles to work. I almost despaired of my plan!_' she thought. Smirking, she said, "Potter, you need to answer a few questions. Write for me the location of the Dark Lord's body, his charms, and the dagger you've imprisoned him in." Lucille watched the slow handwriting, adding, "What spells and curses are on them, and what are the counter-curses?" Lucille almost danced in anticipation; then snatched the document. Scanning it, she cursed under her breath, "Potter, pronounce, very slowly, the counter-curse on the dagger in Parseltongue. Say it again."

Lucille thought a minute. Owl access worked for some things at Gringotts, but this had to be in person. "Excellent, Potter. I want you to write out permission for Narcissa and Lucille Malfoy to have access to these locations at any time. Where are the keys?"

Harry wrote, then spoke slowly, "Top left hand drawer, in a small purple bag."

"Excellent, Potter. One more thing, then you will sleep and not recall any of this. If questioned, you have given Miss Lee Fook permission to access your quarters, and your password." Harry nodded dumbly, Lucille adding, "Now strip down, Potter, climb into bed, and do not wake until Monday." Lucille backed into a corner, clutching her parchment and the bag of keys, and watched as the young man stripped naked and crawled into bed. '_I've been female too long, I actually enjoyed that,_' she thought, closing the door behind her.

------------------------

'_Now, what spell to use?_' Lucille mused as she walked down the corridor. '_I can use the Potter brat's body for the Dark Lord, so we needn't resurrect his old one. I think he'll enjoy having a young, fresh powerful body to use. How delightful to have the son kill the parents, and we can keep the sister as a reserve. She's only a female, so the Dark Lord won't want her body, but best to be prepared. I forsee a bit of research ahead._' She slid down a banister, '_I had almost forgotten the joys of youth. First things first, must get the charms and the dagger away from Potter._' Strolling into the Infirmary, she entered Narcissa's office, "Mother. We'll be taking a little trip to Gringotts today."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, March 4, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 07:18  
_**------------------------

Lucille smirked to herself. Alone among the Gryffindors in wearing a Slytherin scarf, she viewed the upcoming game with mixed feelings. '_I wasn't a bad Chaser for Slytherin,_' she remembered. '_I'll be damned if I play for McGonagall and her brood of sanctimonious do-gooders, no matter where the bloody Hat placed me._' Finishing her tea, she strolled down to the pitch, book bag over her shoulder filled with 'Dark' spell books from the restricted section of the library. '_Courtesy of a pass from Narcissa Black,_' she chuckled to herself.

------------------------


	21. Classes, Week twenty nine, Second year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
21 – Classes, Week twenty nine, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, March 12, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Gryffindor first year girls' dorm: 07:18  
_**------------------------

Lucille lay in her four-poster and thought to herself, '_I have the Dark Lord's charms and the dagger that imprisons him. Unfortunately, the potion did not have an effect until now, and with the full moon's interference in the spell, I will have to wait six weeks until the Feast of Beli on May first. Then, all I need is an hour alone with the Potter brat. A spell, and the Dark Lord will be transferred into his new body, and I shall be honored above all men._' She smiled to herself, adding, '_Also unfortunately, truth compels me to add that both of the brats are under the eye of the parents or that stupid house elf. Still, a simple command, and I shall have my hour._'

She sighed, and threw back the covers. '_I shall have to arrange a distraction,_' she mused. '_It should be relatively easy with the school finally acting like the mindless sheep they are._'

------------------------  
**_Sunday, March 12, 2000_****_:  
_****_Inverness_****_International_****_Airport_****_08:02_****_  
_**------------------------

"You will let me know?" Maggie Morton asked Selina, who nodded. "I wish I did not have to go, I would rather give that Headmaster a piece of my mind!"

"Arthur will be like my own son," Selina promised. "I will let you know as soon as we know anything, and I will put your letter in the Headmaster's hand myself. Changes have to happen here, they can't go on as they have for centuries," Selina said, and Maggie nodded, then turned to board the Lear.

A few feet away, Julie was frowning at Beth, "You'll keep an eye on my daughter?"

"I will, and the Agency will," she promised, with Mr. West adding, "She has but to call the Embassy, and I shall do what I can to help her."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 15, 2000:  
Hogsmeade, Weasley Wizarding Wheezes back room: _****_07:12_****_  
_**------------------------

"I think I recognize this..." Bella said, looking at the gas chromatograph.

Hermione looked up from her sleeping bag on the floor, yawning, then stumbled over to the sink to splash cold water on her face. "What is it?"

"It's a potion Severus created several years ago for the Dark Tosser. As I recall, it took him _months_ to create, and then another month to brew." Bella sat back, "It recreates '_Imperious_', only as an odourless, tasteless potion."

"Where's it from?" Hermione checked the sample database on a laptop.

"Sample GHH-03," Bella replied.

"Taken by Ms. Lane at the High Table in the Great Hall, airborne sample. Does it show up in blood?"

"Got something?" Dr. Phillips asked, coming in from next door.

"Maybe," Hermione said. "Can you check a contaminated blood sample for this particular molecule?"

------------------------

"Airborne contaminant," Dr. Phillips mused. "What would produce outgassing in the Great Hall?"

"Food vapors? Steam from cookware? What else?"

"G'morning," George said, coming in from next door (the brothers had given up their loft to their guests). He yawned, asking, "You find anything?"

"Possibly," Bella said. "What would produce a vapour or mist in the Great Hall?"

"Pranks and tricks, like candles and bombs," George said, pouring tea.

"That's it! Candles! They're everywhere!" Hermione said excitedly. "People tend to be really close to them when they're studying or reading too!"

"And some people, like Professor Sprout and Hagrid, spend most of their time outdoors, or in their greenhouses!" George said. "I think you've got it!"

"Got what?" Selina asked, coming down from the loft.

"A possible source for the contaminant," Bella said.

Selina looked at the laptop, paging through the test results, "I would agree. The molecule in question (she nodded at the screen), doesn't appear in the food or water, except in minute, trace amounts. Those could be picked up through simple exposure." She perched on a stool, asking, "New questions. Who put it there, what do we do to counter or decontaminate, when was it put there, where did it come from, and why is it there?"

"I have another question," Dr. Phillips asked, "Why are two students immune from it?"

"Immune from what?" Beth asked, coming down the stairs.

Bella asked, "Why are two students immune to this airborne potion?"

Beth sighed, "It had to come out sooner or later. The Agency has been keeping an eye on a wizarding terrorist named Lucius Malfoy. He was planning to impersonate a student after killing her off, but we didn't know his plan." Beth took a sip of tea, "Julie Koslowski and her daughter agreed to help us, and we disguised the daughter as Miss Lee Fook. The girl that we know as Koslowski is actually..."

"Lucius Malfoy," Bella said. She sat for a minute; then chuckled, which turned into a full throated belly laugh.

"Not necessarily," Beth held up her hand. "It could be someone else."

"Still, if it is Malfoy, and he's not dead after all..." Hermione mused.

"Then Lucius Malfoy is enrolled as a firstie girl... a firstie _Gryffindor_ girl..." Bella said. "Oh, Minerva is going to have kittens when she finds out!"

------------------------

Selina rapped on a table, "We have a question, 'Why is Julie's daughter immune' and we have a suspect, Lucius Malfoy. What about a motive?"

"I used an Agency disguise spell on her, the counter-spell is classified," Beth put in. "The spell could be interfering with the potion's magic."

"Lucius' obsession has been the resurrection of the Dark Lord," Bella added. "However, there is only one person who knows the location of the corpse."

"Harry," Hermione breathed, "He took the Dark Lord's body, his charms, wand, and such, and the dagger he was killed with, and hid them somewhere."

Bella added, "If Lucius is the one behind this, he wants the Dark Lord's body so he can be resurrected again..."

"We may have a newly risen Dark Lord to deal with, _without_ Potter and _with_ that fool of a Minister..." Bella said.

Selina rapped with her knuckles. "It's an interesting theory, but what proof do we have? How solid are Malfoy's potion-brewing skills?"

Bella looked at Hermione, "Average. If this is the same potion, some of the ingredients are restricted, but they could be stolen from Severus." She snorted, "Knowing Lucius, I would suspect he simply cast '_Imperio_' on Severus, and had _him_ brew it. Why should _he_ get _his_ hands dirty with manual labor, after all?" Shifting on the stool, she added, "I spent several years under Imperious, and it's infuriating when you're released. You know what you're doing, but it seems to make so much sense – then." She glanced over at Hermione, "I may have joined him freely, but I was young and foolish. You thought I did what I did freely? Once I had dug my grave as a terrorist, the spell was released; I had no real other choice but to stay with the Dark Tosser."

"About the potion," Selina prodded.

"Once you're licensed as a Potion Master, there are really no restrictions other than cost," Hermione said. "Malfoy wouldn't worry about that. Then all you would need is a way to get the potion into the candles. Normal usage would take care of releasing the potion." She tapped her teeth with a pen in thought, "If I had the original potion, or better yet, Professor Snapes' notes, I could work out a counter-potion." She gave a snort, "He probably has the counter-potion already figured out. It would make things _much_ simpler."

"It might be in the restricted part o' the House library, but you two couldn't use it," Ian said. "You're not Slytherin. 'Twould be either Bella or m'self to find it., and then to brew it."

"Rather shaky chain of assumptions," Dr. Phillips said. "Still, it's the only one we have. It needs looking into."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 15, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: _****_07:34_****_  
_**------------------------

"Well, now..." Albus said, when there was a knock. Pomona Sprout, who was closest to the door, opened it, and saw Bella, Hermione and Ian, who winked at her. Hermione cleared her throat, saying, "Professor Snape, you clean up nicely, and green is such a good colour for you. Will you join us, please?"

Without a word, the Potions Professor unfolded from his chair, and followed the three, Pomona trailing behind them while Albus ignored this, smiling.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 15, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potion Master's laboratory: _****_07:41_****_  
_**------------------------

Ian held the door for Pomona as Bella asked, "Severus, we would like to see your Formulary. We are looking for the Imperious potion." Severus silently levitated the enormous book onto his desk, passing his wand over it, muttering the counter-charms.

"Disable the Slytherin-only charms, please, Professor," Hermione asked, and Severus calmly waved his wand again. "I'm sorry to have to do this, Professor. There's a threat to the school." She looked over the pages, "Did Malfoy ask you to brew this potion?"

Professor Snape shook his head, "Koslowski did."

The four of them looked between them as Severus calmly stood there, waiting. "How much and when did you brew this for her?" Pomona asked. "Did she discuss her plan with you?"

"I brewed ten liters for her, starting Halloween morning" he replied robotically. "She said she would be distributing it through the common tapers the school uses. I needed to know to change the formulation based on method of distribution."

"So in the water or food you would need a different amount?" Hermione asked.

"Correct. In the school's water supply, you would need twenty two liters; food would vary based on the type. Beverages would require one drop per pitcher, stews and other forms of soup would require..."

"Thank you, Severus," Pomona interrupted. "What about the antigen? What would the best distribution method be?"

"The most efficient distribution would be for all persons to ingest the potion daily over the space of a week. This would require brewing three hundred seventy four liters over the space of four days."

"Thank you, Professor. Would students brewing it help? What years?" Hermione asked.

"Fourth years and over can brew this antigen."

Pomona glanced at the others, "Severus, I'd like your fourth-years and up to brew this antigen. Please copy this information for Hermione and myself."

"Of course, Pomona," Severus said.

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 15, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: _****_13:00_****_  
_**------------------------

The door slammed closed behind Amy, Henry and the other fourth-years, who were sitting quietly beside their lab partners. Professor Snape walked up to the board, saying, "Today we brew the antigen to the Imperious potion. Ingredients and instructions are on the board. This is to be done perfectly." He tapped his wand on the board, adding, "Begin."

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 17, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: _****_13:00_****_  
_**------------------------

The door slammed behind Eleanor, Orla, Emma and James. Fifth-year potions class had begun, and Professor Snape walked to the board without any of his usual theatrics – not that the students noticed, or cared. "Today we brew the antigen to the Imperious potion. Ingredients and instructions are on the board. This is to be done perfectly." He tapped his wand on the board, adding, "Begin."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, March 18, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room: _****_08:00_****_  
_**------------------------

Mattie Wayne quietly sat, typing an essay on Doxies into her laptop. Her best friend Sprink sat silently next to her on the worn leather couch, working on Herbology. The common room was crowded, and uncommonly silent but for the popping of the fire, the turning of pages and the rattle of keyboards, with every Slytherin doing homework or studying for OWL or NEWT exams. Lee Fook rolled her eyes at the scene, but returned to her Charms homework, a bubblehead charm encasing her head.

------------------------


	22. Classes, Week thirty one, Second year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
22 – Classes, Week thirty one, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, March 26, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:32  
_**------------------------

Professor Dumbledore stood at the Head table, tapping his goblet with his butter knife. The low murmur of voices quieted, and he smiled, "I believe most of us are present. I have a small announcement. Given events over the last few years, and that I have been at Hogwarts since 1938, and Headmaster since 1955, I believe it is time for me to retire." There was an explosion of noise, and he raised his hand. "Thank you. I will finish out the school year, at which time I shall turn the school's wards over to Minerva McGonagall." He smiled gently, adding,"I must say, I am quite looking forward to having a holiday. Perhaps I shall travel."

There was a riot of noise, including the Head Table. Albus let it go on for a minute or two; then held up his hand. "I am sure that you have questions. While I will make my recommendations for staff changes, those decisions properly belong to Headmistress McGonagall. As for what I shall do, I believe the British wizarding population is in dire need of a compact of law. I shall give this task my best efforts, and let the witches and wizards of Britain judge it." He smiled gently, then stepped back, "Professor McGonagall?"

She glared daggers at him, "A little notice would have been welcome, Albus," she muttered, loud enough to be heard. He smiled gently at her, and stepped back, leaving the floor to her.

Mattie was on her cell phone, speed-dialing London. "Hey, Aunt Lois! Breaking news for you: Dumbledore just announced his retirement a minute ago, effective at the end of term. McGonagall will take over as Headmistress. He's going to write a 'compact of law' for wizarding Britain. Right now, McGonagall is sitting there, glaring at Dumbledore, apparently this took her by surprise. Okay, he just pulled his disappearing act – I'd love to know how he does that. Hang on, McGonagall is going to speak."

Minerva stood, and addressed the school, "Well, this is as much a surprise to me as to you. I'm certain that everyone here, like I do, have things we would like to change at Hogwarts, and things that we would like to keep. I would appreciate suggestions, _with_ good, solid reasons, for anything you would change. Put them in writing, please, as I will discard anonymous comments." She looked about, adding, "If you are not confident of your thoughts, they are not worthy of discussion."

Mattie told Lois, "Okay, McGonagall is asking for signed suggestions. Sure, I'll go and see if Dumbledore is in his office, and willing to sit for an interview. Be gentle with him, okay? Right. Bye." She stowed her phone, telling the table, "Gotta go!"

------------------------  
**_Sunday, March 26, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 09:03  
_**------------------------

"_Gummi Bears_" Mattie told the statue, which rotated away. "Hold the statue!" someone called, and Arthur ran up, panting slightly.

"We need to get you in shape," Mattie teased as they rode up the circular staircase. "Want to go running with me later?"

"I don't want to, but I will. I need the exercise," he answered. "Shoot some baskets with me?"

"Deal," she replied, as she knocked on the door. "Headmaster?"

"Please come in, Miss Wayne, Mr. Morton," he called. He stood as they entered, "What can I do for you?" as he waved his wand to conjure two squashy armchairs. "Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you sir," Mattie replied. "I have a request to pass on from my Aunt Lois. She'd like to do an interview, given your rather surprising announcement."

"How did she know about this?" Albus asked curiously; Mattie simply pulled out her cell phone. "Ah. Advanced muggle technology, I should have known." He sighed, "As many advancements as we have made recently, we still have far to go," he said, adding with a twinkle of his eyes, "You may not quote me, Miss Wayne. I am at your aunt's disposal. Shall we say ..." he turned, unlocking his computer and checking his schedule, "Tomorrow at ten? I can offer her lunch, as I have another appointment at one."

Mattie nodded, and stood next to the fire while she called Lois back. Albus turned to Arthur, smiling and saying, "You are concerned with the letter your mother wrote me? Perhaps you would like to see my reply?" He held up his hand, and a file flew out of a cabinet into his hand. Dumbledore extracted a sheet of parchment, handing it to Arthur.

"I didn't know Mom wrote you a letter," he said, then sat down to read.

_25 March, 2000 _

_Mrs. Magdalena Morton  
Grandview Heights, Ohio  
United States _

_Dear Mrs. Morton, _

_I am in receipt of your letter of the eleventh. Please forgive my delay in replying, as you are aware, the school was recently subjected to an event, which has lead to this delay. _

_I completely understand your concern for both Arthur and Julia (when she starts next year). I have noticed that enrollment has slipped from that of a few years ago, and your point that 'what Hogwarts needs is an educator, not a mage' is well taken. _

_For this reason and others, I have decided to retire at the end of this term. While I will always feel a strong attachment to Hogwarts, I feel that I can best serve by turning my attention to a post I have sadly neglected, that of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot (our judicial system). _

_In this regard, I will be drafting a wizarding constitution of sorts, taking into consideration the Declaration of Separation, which I understand Arthur had a hand in compiling. I am leaving the school in good hands, passing the school to Minerva McGonagall, who has a degree in education from King's College in London. In that regard, some of the personnel decisions I made in the past were driven more by the recent conflicts with Grindelwald and Voldemort. These decisions are now properly in Minerva's hands. _

_In closing, I appreciate your concerns, and hope that I have addressed them. I look forward to correspondence from you and other parents. _

_Sincerely,  
Albus Dumbledore  
Headmaster  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Albus smiled gently as Arthur passed the letter back. "You're going to use the Declaration? But I didn't do..."

"Indeed I am, Mr. Morton. I find it has a number of novel ideas that apply." He steepled his fingers, asking, "Do you have a suggestion that I may pass on to Minerva?"

"Get rid of Binns," Arthur said immediately. "He's a joke as a History instructor. Find someone who's qualified."

"Ah, well, as a ghost, Professor Binns somewhat comes with the castle," Albus said. He looked up, and called, "Come in, Minerva!" Standing, he waved his wand, conjuring another squashy armchair.

"Mr. Morton, Miss Wayne," Minerva said with a stiff nod.

Mattie closed her phone, saying, "Aunt Lois says tomorrow at ten is fine. They'll be doing a special insert in Tuesday's paper." She glanced at Minerva, adding, "Professor McGonagall, my Aunt Lois will be interviewing the Headmaster tomorrow. Would you like to join him, or do a separate interview?" She grinned, adding, "I asked her to be gentle with you."

"I do appreciate the sentiment, but I have nothing to hide from her," Albus said. "Mr. Morton was just expressing his dissatisfaction with Professor Binns' qualifications."

Minerva snorted, "How does one fire a ghost?"

"Stop assigning students to his classroom. I don't think he'd even notice," Arthur said. He glanced at Mattie, asking, "Ready?"

"Always," she replied. Mattie paused when Minerva said, "I will join Albus tomorrow, if you would inform your aunt." Mattie nodded, asking Arthur as he stood, "Which first, the track or the basketball court?"

------------------------  
**_Monday, March 27, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 10:00  
_**------------------------

Lois sneezed as she stepped through the floo, dusting herself off. "Allow me," Albus said, brushing off her suit jacket. As he replaced the brush on the hook, he asked, "Tea?"

"Thank you," Lois answered, pulling out her pocket recorder and pad. Settling herself, she told the recorder, "Lois Lane, Albus Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. Now, then, Mr. Dumbledore..."

"Please, call me Albus."

Lois smiled, "Albus then. I understand that you're planning on an active retirement, writing Britain's first wizarding constitution. What are your thoughts on that?"

Albus settled himself, and sipped his tea. "I believe a compact is a better term, as it is an agreement between witches and wizards and their government. Ever since the Ministry succeeded the British Council of Wizards in the late 1600's, we have been ruled by the Minister. Some have been better than others, but there has been no codified law other than the Unforgivables, and they are a recent invention, within the last hundred years. However, the muggles have managed to rule themselves, first with the Magna Carta..."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, March 29, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff room: 07:02  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, everyone," Pomona said cheerfully, carefully setting her candle down next to Hagrid's. The sweet scent of burning _cannabis sativa_ in the antigen candles everyone carried mixed in the small, worn room. "When do we expect to receive the shipment of new candles?" she asked.

"Not for another week or so," Minerva said. "We usually order that large a quantity of tapers once a year, a second order caught them off. They have sent what they had in stock; I have asked these be placed in the Great Hall."

"Well, we have several things to discuss in confidence," Albus said. "Aside from the usual folderol, what do we do about Miss Malfoy? It could be argued that she is a minor, and is not liable for her actions with Imperious."

Severus snorted in disgust, "You cannot possibly be serious Albus. Regardless of what outward form he might be wearing, everyone in this room knows full well that 'Constance Kowalski' is in fact Lucius Malfoy and most certainly not a minor."

"Lucius Malfoy was declared dead," Albus replied.

"Then declare him alive!" Callista Vector snapped. "He cannot be allowed to escape justice. The fact that he actually lives must override any legal declaration to the contrary. It is simple common sense."

"Would you turn him over to Fudge?" Harry asked. "Without Malfoy to prop him up, Fudge's Ministry is bankrupt, the goblins just presented him a note that Hansen signed for the Ministry. Fudge was completely ignorant of it." He leaned forward, "I am no fan of either Fudge or Malfoy, but even a foolish Gryffindor knows to separate his enemies, and to keep them under observation. We have a spy network in the Ministry, but we have no way to keep track of Malfoy once she's out of Hogwarts."

"I recall her casting Imperious on me, however, she was clever enough to cast other spells to disguise it," the Potions Master said. He glanced at Pomona, "Even though you heard me say so, under the Ministry's revised legal code, that's considered hearsay."

Minerva massaged her face, "I cannot believe I have _Lucius _bloody_ Malfoy_ in my house. Can you take her, Severus?"

"What makes you think we want her in Slytherin?" he snapped. "Given her past, she wouldn't survive the first night, as I'd have to put her with Fook, Wayne, and Tonks. I think even Wayne would be tempted to kill her, if Tonks didn't transform and tear her throat out." He snorted, "Even Fook hates her, and for good reason. Unfortunately, we need her alive for interrogation." He sat back, eyes hooded, "We are fortunate that Minerva knew about the loose floorboard where she had hidden the Dark Lord's charms."

"It was a good idea of yours, Severus, to transfigure that cat toy into false charms and the dagger," Minerva added as she sipped tea, "I just wish we knew where she had hidden the Dark Lord's body."

"It's still there, I checked," Harry said. "I presume she planned for the Dark Lord to inhabit someone's body."

"For what it's worth, I think we should restore the points Malfoy lost for Gryffindor," Filius said. "How many has it been, Albus?"

"Four hundred sixty two, so far," Minerva said dryly, and Albus nodded.

"I suggest we put Malfoy outside the point system," Pomona said. "When do we reveal her identity to the students?"

"I am awaiting several owls from persons I trust on the Wizengamot," Albus said. "I should hope to have answers by the weekend, and make a final decision, and announcement, then, possibly after the Quidditch game."

"I am agreeable to the questions of points regarding Miss Malfoy," Severus said. "Those points should be restored to Gryffindor," he said with a grimace. He looked at Pomona, "What about rescheduling that game between Hufflepuff and Slytherin? The one at the beginning of the month was ... absurd."

"I'm agreeable to voiding that game and rescheduling, especially when it took the snitch flying in front of Miss Wayne for her to notice it," Pomona said. "Even then, it still took her ten minutes to catch it. What dates are open?"

"May sixth is available," Harry said, looking at his laptop's schedule. As Quidditch coach, he coordinated scheduled games with the Ballycastle coach. "Before that, we've got the pitch booked for the student/alumni game Friday afternoon, the twenty first of April, then the Easter Festival that weekend, and the Easter holiday."

"I have invited Minister Fudge under a banner of truce for the festivities," Albus said. "Please impress upon your Houses that, while they can defend themselves, they should not initiate conflict with the Minister or his party."

"I asked the Minister specifically about Minerva's Dunking Booth," Filius said. "I told him that I would be preceding him if he chose to join us, and reminded him that it was for a good cause."

"Wha' aboot Umbridge?" Hagrid asked.

"_She_ is no longer a Slytherin," Severus snapped.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 30, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:02  
_**------------------------

"Good morning, everyone," Lee said as she joined her housemates. Sprink waved her teacup, and Mattie looked up from her stacks of mail.

"I need a secretary," she complained, scrawling a quick note. "This is no way to run a railroad," Lee snorted into her coffee. "Woah, there," she told a bat. "I need to send something back." Mattie turned, asking at the Ravenclaw table, "Amy, find a job yet?"

"No, some owls back, and a few interviews over the floo, but nothing yet," she said.

"Get with Professor Flitwick and go over your interviewing skills, and I'll go over mine," Mattie said. "I need an assistant, someone I can trust. Interested?"

"What about me?" Sprink asked.

"I haven't forgotten my best buddy," Mattie said, throwing her arm around Sprink.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, March 30, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Staff quarters: 20:44  
_**------------------------

Harry's computer 'dinged' with incoming mail:

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Albus Dumbledore  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:43:55  
Subject: CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_I have received owls from several of the Wizengamot. As Minister Fudge has declared Lucius Malfoy dead, and his estate has been probated, Miss Malfoy is innocent of any crimes Lucius may have committed. She may also call herself whatever she wants. However, she may not commit fraud by assuming another's identity. _

_I am, however, loath to commit Lucille Malfoy to Azkaban. Aside from the Prophet crucifying us for imprisoning a (nominal) "first-year student" in Azkaban, I doubt she would be there long while Minister Fudge retains his tentative grip on power. I would prefer keeping her here, under our watchful eye._

_In that regard, I have spoken with Ms. Colleen Merritt, head of the town council of Hogsmeade. While this is normally done for misdemeanors, she will prefer charges of battery by potion and fraud against Miss Lucille Malfoy in council court. She has requested that Hogwarts confine the suspect, as they do not have proper facilities (their own suspects are bonded on their own recognizance). There is precedent for this, most recently in 1979. _

_Accordingly, as Lucius Malfoy has used wandless magic, it is a fair assumption that Miss Lucille Malfoy can do so. I have thus requested the elves to convert the broom closet across from the hourglasses outside the Great Hall into a cell, where the constant traffic can help keep an eye on Miss Malfoy. She will thus have food, access to medical care, and may choose a defense counselor. _

_I believe that tomorrow at breakfast, under the pretext of Minerva making staffing announcements, we can suddenly stun and arrest her, then relieve her of any bits of nastiness she may have secreted about her person. Is this agreeable to all? _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:45:02  
Subject: Re: CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_I believe this is the best plan for the moment. However, who will watch over her during the summer months?_

_As a side matter, I would like to suggest Callista Vector for the post of Deputy Headmistress, and that Harry take over as head of Gryffindor. For the post of Transfiguration instructor, I nominate Cho Chang, and Remus Lupin for History. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Harry Potter  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:46:15  
Subject: Re:2 CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy_

_Cho always was a sharp witch when it came to Transfig. I think that's a good choice, and I've always learned loads from Remus. I think the political situation has improved regarding lycanthropy as a medical condition, thanks in part to Miss Wayne's openly employing them. It didn't hurt when she drew her wand to face down Fudge in front of the press. The only question is, would he take the position? _

_As far as myself, I'll accept the post, and I have a suggestion to make. Ginny has served as an unofficial 'house mum' for the Gryffindor firsties this past year. I'd suggest making that semi-official, and having her available to all the firsties. Sometimes, you need a big sister to ask when you can't ask a 'scary professor' (her quote from one of the firsties) a question. _

_I think it's a great idea, especially with the muggle firsties! Perhaps I could meet with them before term starts at Diagon Alley. – Ginny _

_PS: Harry, you owe me a knut for quoting me! _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Filius Flitwick  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:48:13  
Subject: Re:3 CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_Miss Chang always was excellent when it came to her wand work; and I think it's a good suggestion regarding Ginny. _

_How do we want to proceed with Miss Malfoy?_

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Minerva McGonagall  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:50:16  
Subject: Re:4 CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_Albus can invite me to speak at breakfast tomorrow. At that time, I will make my announcements, and after I mention Ginny (which will surely cause some discussion), we can all Stun Miss Malfoy. _

_While Ginny, Pomona and I search her, Albus can explain the situation to the students. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Narcissa Black  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:51:24  
Subject: Re:5 CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_While I have been under a geis that prevents me from writing or speaking about Lucille's plans, I have been able to TYPE them, as I'm doing now. She has called me 'mother' (even if sarcastically), so I will take on that role. I would appreciate it; however, if a way could be found for the various spells she has placed on me to be lifted. _

_To: All Hogwarts Staff  
From: Severus Snape  
Date: 30 March 2000: 20:55:22  
Subject: Re:6 CONFIDENTIAL! Miss Malfoy _

_I still have a drop or two of the Imperious potion I was forced to brew for her. It would be fitting; I believe, to use her own potion against her, both to interrogate her and to lift Narcissa's spells. I presume no one will object to the use of a Dark brew for this purpose. _

_I agree with the suggested appointments. This will place Callista in line to be the first Slytherin Headmistress in school history, an honour long past due for our House. _

_Albus, as tomorrow is certain to be disruptive, I propose you announce the cancellation of classes for the day._

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 31, 2000:  
Cornwall, Eagles Peak, (Chang home): 07:13  
_**------------------------

Cho looked up from her tea and the classifieds at the rapping of an owl's beak on the kitchen window. Grumbling a bit as she always did, she moved a footstool to stand on; then opened the window. A Hogwarts owl flew in, perching on the back of a chair and offering her its leg.

"Thank you," she told it, offering it a sausage. "Can you stay a bit?" She had accepted a position with the Ministry after graduation, only to be laid off in one of Fudge's purges of 'un-necessary' personnel. Finances were tight for her family, but you still treated the post owls right. Breaking the seal, she read:

_30 March 2000_

_Dear Miss Chang, _

_As you may have heard in the Reporter, Headmaster Dumbledore has announced his retirement, and my appointment to succeed him. _

_I would therefore like to offer you the position of Transfiguration, effective this coming school term. If you accept, please owl me with your salary and housing requirements. I will need to schedule a meeting to discuss the duties and benefits of a Hogwarts Professor, and the Transfiguration curriculum._

_Other staff changes that you should be aware of include "Professor Harry" (Potter) moving to assume the post of Head of Gryffindor, with his wife Ginevra taking the (unofficial) position of "house mum" for the firsties of all four houses. I have also invited Remus Lupin to assume the position of History Professor, and Callista Vector will assume the position of Deputy Headmistress. Divination will become an elective, not a required course._

_Lastly, in confidence, I would like to invite you to assume the position of Seeker for this year's Alumni/Student Quidditch game. While Severus' students are talented, I believe we can defeat them. _

_Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
(appointed) Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

"Stay here, please, and help yourself," she told the owl, who hooted happily when she pushed a plate of kippers and a goblet of water to him. "I'll be writing back directly." Clutching the letter, she dashed up the stairs, calling, "Mum!"

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 31, 2000:  
London, 12 Grimmaud Place: 07:41  
_**------------------------

_30 March 2000_

_Dear Mr. Lupin, _

_As you may have heard in the Reporter, Headmaster Dumbledore has announced his retirement, and my appointment to succeed him. _

_I would therefore like to offer you the position of History, effective this coming school term. If you accept, please owl me with your salary and housing requirements. I will need to schedule a meeting to discuss the duties and benefits of a Hogwarts Professor, and the (updated) History curriculum._

_Other staff changes that you should be aware of include "Professor Harry" (Potter) moving to assume the post of Head of Gryffindor, with his wife Ginevra taking the (unofficial) position of "house mum" for the firsties of all four houses. I have also invited Cho Chang to assume the position of Transfiguration Professor, and Callista Vector will assume the position of Deputy Headmistress. Divination will become an elective, not a required course. _

_While I am aware of your medical condition, you may not be aware of several recent advancements in the study of the Lycanthropy curse, and the Wolfsbane potion. With your co-operation, you (and the four student werewolves) can have a safe and happy experience at Hogwarts. _

_Sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
(appointed) Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Remus sighed, '_What do I do? The Waynes have treated me with dignity and respect, how do I turn my back on them?_' he mused. '_Still, I was always happy at Hogwarts. The History curriculum needs updating. What do I do?_'

------------------------  
**_Friday, March 31, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:30  
_**------------------------

Albus glanced at Minerva, receiving a tiny nod from her. Standing, he tapped on his goblet with the butter knife, asking, "May I have your attention, please?" People quieted down, "Thank you. Minerva would like to announce some staffing changes for next term. Minerva?"

As Albus sat, Minerva stood, glancing along both sides of the High Table. "I see that Professor Trelawney could not join us this morning. In any case, for the next term, I will be asking Professor Vector to accept the post of Deputy Headmistress. This will also place her in line to be the first Slytherin Headmistress in school history." The Slytherin table predictably whooped and applauded as Callista stood, while the other Houses applauded politely.

"Secondly, Professor Potter will accept the post of Head of Gryffindor," Harry stood while the Gryffindor table applauded madly. Minerva cleared her throat, "I have invited a recent Ravenclaw graduate, Miss Cho Chang, to accept the position of Transfiguration professor, but I have not yet received her owl. Some of the older students will remember her as an excellent Seeker as well." Now the Ravenclaws applauded.

"I am also awaiting an acceptance owl from Remus Lupin for the position of History instructor, that is, if Miss Wayne does not outbid us for his services." People laughed, and Mattie waved. "Lastly, as Professor Potter cannot referee Quidditch as well as coach Gryffindor, I will impose on Ginny to coach the team. Mrs. Potter will also serve as a semi-official 'house mum' to students in all four houses, especially the firsties." As the students talked over this development, the faculty stood, and fired stunners at Malfoy, who was looking at Ginny.

People screamed, as Ginny calmly floated her unconscious body down the table to the door. Pomona, Callista, and the other female faculty joined them in the small antechamber as Albus stood to restore order.

"Please be seated, and I shall explain what is happening," he called, and wands were put away. "Thank you. The person you know as Miss Koslowski is, in fact, a disguised Lucius Malfoy. She took the identity of Miss Constance Koslowski to discover the location of Voldemort's corpse and resurrect him."

People screamed in terror, and Albus once again motioned for quiet. "She was unsuccessful in this, although she believes otherwise. Professor Potter took appropriate precautions. However, the American intelligence service supplied information on this to us, as well as disguising the real Miss Koslowski for her protection. Would you stand, my dear?"

To the shock of Slytherin, Lee Fook stood and waved. Drawing her wand, she waved it over her head, the petite Chinese girl vanishing, and an ordinary brunette appearing. "The Hat knew about me, that's why I was placed in Slytherin," she confessed.

"Would you like to be re-Sorted?" the Headmaster asked.

"Na, I'd like to stay in Slytherin, if, um, you guys will have me?"

The Great Hall was silent for a minute, then Karen stood, "I want you in the Den. That was brill! What do we call you, though?"

"Um, either Connie or Lee. I've gotten used to Lee, though." Emma walked a few paces down, and hugged her. "You know, we'll have to put you through another initiation," she said, and Lee nodded.

"Excellent!" the Headmaster beamed. "Regarding Miss Lucille Malfoy, while she did commit assault against the occupants of this castle regarding the Imperious potion in the candles, and fraud against Miss Koslowski by stealing her identity, I am loathe to put a young girl in Azkaban prison, especially when Minister Fudge is likely to release her immediately.

"She owes us blood!" one of the twins shouted. Someone else called "Lock her away!"

Albus raised his hands, "Given the false pretenses, we felt it best to restore the 462 points Miss Malfoy cost Gryffindor. Severus, if you please?"

"Why did you have to start with me?" he grumbled. "One hundred fifty points to Gryffindor, and you will not touch Miss Malfoy," he ground out, glaring at his Slytherins.

Filius added to his house, "I expect to see Miss Malfoy alive. One hundred fifty points to Gryffindor."

Albus said, "Another one hundred fifty points to Gryffindor. Harry?"

"I wish these were different circumstances. The final twelve points to Gryffindor, and," he added, "I also expect to see Miss Malfoy alive and whole. The women are questioning her now; we will deal with matters as they arise. Albus, I believe you had another point to make?"

"Yes, given this morning's events, classes are cancelled for the day. We will also replay the Hufflepuff / Slytherin Quidditch game on May sixth." There was only minor celebration at this announcement, as all four houses had each clustered in conference under privacy spells.

------------------------

"We can't kill her, and we can't touch her," Emma said.

"Aye, but spells CAN touch her, an' we know quite a few," Frank said. He glanced at Lee, "Y' tha' injured party here, lassie. We'll go by what y' think."

"She's dragged my name through the mud," Lee said. "She has to stay here, and we have to let her live. Without spilling blood, without a mark or trace to us, I'd like to make her next six years here hell on earth."

"Tha' we can do, lassie," Frank agreed, looking around the circle to general agreement. There was a ping on the spell, and with another look around, Frank dissolved it.

"What do you want?" Karen asked the delegation of Gryffs.

"We, well, we wanted to know how you lot dealt with the Dark Tosser," Henry Spencer asked.

"What's in it for us?" Emma asked coolly.

"Access to Koslowski, err, Malfoy," Violet Pellew corrected at the scowls she got. "Sorry, Lee, err, Connie."

"Call me Lee for now, but DON'T call that little bitch Koslowski," Lee growled. "Her name is Malfoy. What else?"

"Well, we're planning on a couple things, and we were going to offer our co-operation," Spencer said.

"Why would we need it?" Mattie asked. "We just need to keep her alive, not whole. What else are you offering?"

"An apology," Professor Harry said. He looked over at Severus, "On behalf of myself and Gryffindor House, I would like to apologize for lumping Slytherin House in with the Dark Tosser. I was wrong."

"Accepted," the tall Potion Master said. He glanced at his house, "What are you planning for Malfoy?"

"Lee wants the next six years to be hell," Emma said. "We plan to deliver that."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, April 1, 2000:  
London, 12 Grimmaud Place: 08:14  
_**------------------------

Remus looked up at the faint scratching noise at the window. He opened it, and smiled as the tiny bat fluttered over to his table. "Thank you," he told it.

_March 31, 2000_

_Dear Mr. Lupin, _

_I have just been informed that you have received another offer, that of History professor at Hogwarts. I would like to reassure you that if you decide against continuing with Ballycastle for the present, there will always be a space for you here. _

_Sincerely,  
Ms. Mattie Wayne  
Owner  
Ballycastle Bats Quidditch, Ltd. _

_MW/aj_

_PS: Good luck, Remus! Amy & Mattie!_

------------------------


	23. Interlude Five, Second year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
23 – Interlude Five, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Friday, April 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Ravenclaw table: 08:43  
_**------------------------

Roshawn smirked into her morning coffee. The Easter festival looked to be interesting, even more so when Minister Fudge arrived this afternoon for the Student/Alumni Quidditch game. She had no idea how the two 'coaches' were picked, but this year, Professor McGonagall had selected the alumni, while Professor Snape had chosen the student team. Typically for Professor Snape, he had done it covertly, under cover of a "detention", Sprink had confessed.

Mildly disappointed in not being chosen, she did have to admit his choices for the student team were excellent. '_So what if there's a bunch of Slytherins this year? They've got a hell of a team!_' All four teams had contributed tactics, with Henry Spencer from Gryffindor as Keeper, Mattie Wayne as Seeker, Sprink Tonks and Jeremy Slater from Hufflepuff were playing Beater '_I think that's the first time three werewolves have been on the same team._', she mused. Abby Michaels (one of two Hufflepuffs), Amy Johnson of Ravenclaw and Karen Bundy were Chasing. The practices had been... interesting, but the big mystery was who was on the Alumni team.

------------------------  
**_Friday, April 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch Pitch, Student lockers: 12:50  
_**------------------------

"Right-o, people!" Abby called, and the team gathered. "I know as Captain, I'm supposed to make an inspirational speech. Well, thanks to our friends in Slytherin, we know who our opponents are, and how they're going to work together."

"Poorly," Professor Snape said, emerging from the shadows, with a nod to Abby. "They have had scheduling conflicts, and have only managed three team practices. Because there are several professional players on Minerva's team, they also have ego problems. These can be used against them, as you have had the time with my 'detentions' to fuse your playing styles."

"Everyone got their earworms?" Abby asked, and people nodded. "Remember, the Weasley twins invented the bloody things; not only are they Beating for the other team, they may have a way to intercept communications. If anyone thinks they have, shout out 'Channel three', and I'll call a time-out so we can switch to the muggle devices." She nodded at Mattie, "Everyone got their new brooms? Right-o. Spencer, you're going to have to run the game, we'll try to keep you bored. Wayne, shout out 'Channel five' when you spot the bloody Snitch, Spencer will let you know when to take it." She took a breath, asking "Ready? Let's kick some ARSE!"

------------------------  
**_Friday, April 21, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Quidditch Pitch, Commentators booth: 13:00  
_**------------------------

"Good afternoon from Hogwarts, and welcome to the 254th annual Student/Alumni Quidditch game. I'm Lee Jordan, your commentator. This game is sponsored by Weasley Wizard Wheezes, just down the road in Hogsmeade, and with our original Diagon Alley shop. Both teams' rosters have remained secret until right now. The envelopes, Professors?" There was a tearing sound, and Lee said, "Oh, my! The alumni have a very strong side today. In black robes, we have Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere, Chasing for the alumni are Angelina Johnson of Holyhead, Roger Davies of Wigtown and Alicia Spinnet, also of the Harpies. Beating for the Alumni are none other than my mates, the legendary Fred and George Weasley, and Cho Chang is Seeking. Ms. Chang has accepted a position as Transfiguration professor, which would normally disqualify her, but she won't start until next year. Yes, this is a very, very strong side."

"And for the students..." (the envelope ripped), "Oh, my, oh, my. Professor Snape, you are a cunning one. Leading off the students in blue robes is Seeker Mattie Wayne of Slytherin, holder of the school's fastest catch record, and incidentally owner of the Ballycastle Bats. Keeping for the students is Henry Spencer of Gryffindor, one of the better Keepers to come along since Oliver Wood. That has always been a strong position with Gryffindor." The paper rustled, "This is interesting; both Beaters are werewolves, Sprink Tonks of Slytherin and Jeremy Slater of Hufflepuff. We also have a _third_ werewolf, Amy Johnson of Ravenclaw who is Chasing, along with team captain Abby Michaels of Hufflepuff and Karen Bundy of Slytherin."

"Referee Harry Potter is levitating the chest of balls out to the center of the pitch. The snitch is released, there go the Bludgers, and with the whistle, the Quaffle is tossed, snatched by... Johnson and we're off!

------------------------

"One hundred eighteen minutes into the match, with the alumni ahead by twenty points, 130-110. The students, each of whom is riding a Firebolt II, have had a lot more cohesive play, with Johnson and Spinnet using the Harpies' playbook and virtually ignoring Davies, to the intense displeasure of alumni captain Oliver Wood. One goal was scored by student Karen Bundy, who distracted Wood with a brilliant fake and an offside pass from team captain Michaels." Lee took a gulp of water, "Wayne is diving, Slater and Tonks are firing Bludgers at Chang to get her off Wayne's tail, one connects with her left arm. Oh, that's gotta hurt! Does she... YES! Wayne catches the snitch, the game is over; students win a tight game 260-130! The students form up for a victory lap of the pitch, once again, in 119 minutes of play, the students beat the alumni, 260-130!"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, April 22, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Hufflepuff table: 07:33  
_**------------------------

"Post's here!" someone called, and a bat fluttered down in front of Jeremy Slater. He blinked; unrolling the scroll.

"What's it say, mate?" He ignored the question, looking down the table to Abby, whose own bat was fluttering away. She looked at him, and he shook himself. "I've just gotten an invite to the Bats' training camp this summer. You?" he asked Abby, and she nodded, croaking out "Professional ... professional Quidditch."

"Did Wayne..." someone asked, and Jeremy shook himself. "I don't know, but we're going to find out," he said. Taking a fortifying sip of tea, he walked with Abby over to the Ravenclaw table, where Wayne happened to be sitting today, discussing something with Amy Johnson.

Abby cleared her throat, "Wayne, can we have a moment?" People budged over, and she sat with Jeremy. "We just got invites to the Bats' training camp this summer," she said, and Wayne's face split into a grin. "Wonderful! I'm so pleased for you! I hope you make it!"

"Wayne, I have to know... did you arrange it?" Jeremy asked. "If you did, then..."

Mattie held up a hand, "I don't deal with that; it's the coach's decision. I'm management, not the fun side of the game. I won't know the final roster until we have player's union negotiations in..."

"August 14th is when they're scheduled," Amy said, flipping through a day-timer. "Two weeks before school starts, and a full moon next day." She grinned at the two Hufflepuffs, "Good luck, guys!"

"And with that, I hope you guys have a good weekend at the festival," Mattie said, taking a last gulp of coffee. "I've got just enough time to change into my team robes for the Chaser booth." She grinned, "How did you lot ever convince Binns to take part in the dunking booth?"

"We're still not sure how well it will work," Abby said. "He said he'd be there, house pride and all, if he remembers, that is."

------------------------  
**_Saturday, April 22, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Easter festival, "chaser booth": 09:47  
_**------------------------

"So you think you're a Chaser?" the sign read, "Can you score against a Hogwarts Keeper?" and gave the schedule. Slytherin was scheduled Saturday 8-12, with an assortment of team brooms floating behind the table.

"Those regulation, and what kind of brooms?" the fellow asked, his two galleons in hand.

"Nimbus 2000, and regulation practice pitch", Sprink answered, showing him a certificate from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He grunted, reluctantly dropping the gold in the box. The three Slytherin chasers floated in midair, waiting for him. James floated in front of the goals as the heavyset man kicked off. Karen tossed him the Quaffle, and backed off. The fellow started a clumsy corkscrew maneuver, trying a desperate feint at the last minute which James intercepted. Tossing the ball back to his sister, he smiled, "Not as easy as it looks, is it? Another try, mate?"

------------------------

There was a splash as Hagrid was dunked, shrieks as onlookers were splashed. Mattie sighed, admitting, "I wish I could have dunked Dumbledore."

"At least y'can do Fudge," Sprink replied. "An' Croft," Frank added, and Sprink swatted his arm.

------------------------

"Ah, there y'be," Frank told the arriving Ravenclaws. He looked, asking, "Wha' is tha' y' eatin', lassie?"

"Corn dog," one of the twins told him. "It's basically a sausage on a stick, dipped in batter and fried. It's good, but not the best for your heart."

"Take your brooms back to the dorms!" Karen called as she passed the gold to the Gringotts' goblin, who signed for it.

------------------------

"Can I use my own?" Mattie asked at the Ravenclaw booth.

Louis looked at his partner and shrugged, as Mattie passed Sprink her broom. "Thanks, I'll need an assistant," Mattie answered, spying a little girl watching. She asked, "Ma'am, can I borrow your daughter? Just set her on the table." As she pulled out four throwing knives, she told her 'assistant', "I need you to pick my targets. Can you do that?" The girl nodded as Mattie started to juggle them, adding a knife until all four of them were in the air. "What do I get if I score?" Mattie asked.

"Your choice of the toys," Chang Li answered, mesmerized by the flashing blades.

"Okay." She asked her 'assistant', "Pick a balloon," and was pointed at 'upper left red'. With a wrist flick, a knife scored on the target while the other three stayed in motion. Another balloon was named and popped with a flick, until all four were buried in target balloons.

The onlookers clapped and whistled, as Mattie picked out a soft toy, giving it to her 'assistant'. With an 'oof', Louis extracted the last, as someone said, "Those can't be real knives." Mattie flipped one, offering it to him hilt first. He ran his thumb along the edge, then sucking at the line of blood. Mattie smiled, stowed the last one, and wandered off toward the castle, green Slytherin Quidditch robes flapping in the gentle breeze.

------------------------

Mattie and Sprink watched the dunking booth; currently Madame Pince occupied the 'chair of honor'. Each house's Quidditch team operated the booth, the balls selling one for a galleon, three for two galleons, and eight for five galleons. Currently, Hermione Granger tossed a ball in her hand as Pince climbed back on the small stool.

"Lucky hit," Sprink said. "She throws like a girl, no wrist at all, mate. Reminds me of my sister." Sure enough, the ball bounced off the steel arm, which quivered, but held. Her third ball sailed over the arm, Granger shrugging and calling something to Pince, then wandering off.

"Sprout's up next," Charlie said, wandering up to join them. Mattie cocked her head, asking, "You're not going for your Head of House?"

"At five quid a throw? Not bloody likely," he said. "I'm saving for a good target, mate."

"Who?" Sprink asked.

"Professor Croft!" Sprink slapped his arm, as Andrew said, "Good choice, mate." Mattie huffed, and slapped _his_ arm, to the boys' chuckles.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 23, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Easter festival, "dunking booth": 10:47  
_**------------------------

Mattie waited patiently, as above her; Cornelius Fudge squashed his dripping green bowler back on his head, climbing back on the stool. The Minister was one of the more 'popular' targets, especially as he had neglected to wear swimming attire, showing up in business wear.

"Professor Flitwick, can we conjure a few piranha for the tank?" Mattie asked loudly, tossing her third ball in her hand.

"What are those, Miss Wayne?" the tiny charms professor asked, drying his beard.

"Man-eating fish," she replied, and Fudge looked wildly at her, just as her ball banged against the target. With a 'glub', the Minister was dunked again. She smiled sweetly, picking up her fourth ball, tossing it while he climbed back aboard the stool. "I know!" she said, waving her wand at the tank. "I'll just transfigure the water to something nasty that will strip the flesh from his bones!" 'BANG!' went the target, and the Minister went swimming again.

"Um, Miss Wayne," the tiny professor said.

"The problem is, there are so many choices, professor," she said, picking up her fifth ball. "You have the ones that act instantly, like carbolic and the fluorocarbon acids, and..." 'BANG!' "The ones that work best when ingested. I do hope you're not getting any into your mouth, Minister!" she called. "Then, of course, there are the bases that we need to discuss." 'BANG!' "You know, Minister, like the alkali salts, that would wither you up like a prune, suck all the moisture out of your body." She tossed her seventh ball, "Yes, Minister, you'd dissolve into a kilo or two of dust, in the middle of all that water..." 'BANG!'

Tossing her eighth and final ball, she asked, "Tell me, Minister, I think the proper thing to do would be to ask you. After all, you'll be the one, it's only fair. What should I transfigure that tank of ordinary water into?"

"You mean you haven't?" he babbled.

"Of course not, Minister! I'm not a killer," 'BANG!', "Just someone with a long memory," Mattie said, as she walked away.

------------------------  
**_Sunday, April 23, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Easter festival, "dunking booth": 14:00  
_**------------------------

Someone shouted "Time!" and Professor Sinistra hopped off the stool, into the tank and waved to the crowd through the front of the tank. She swam underwater to the ladder, the sunlight rippling on her green one-piece suit. Karen handed her a towel as she climbed down. "Really, Severus, couldn't you find a more modern suit?" she asked.

"This is perfectly adequate," he replied frostily, his white undershirt billowing over the long trunks he wore over his pale limbs as he climbed the tank. Sinistra winked at Karen, aiming her wand and transfiguring his suit into a skimpy green speedo. "Now all he needs is a tan," she whispered.

"And now, the man of the hour," Frank called, "The one, the only, Professor Severus Snape! Who's going to be the first to send the dreaded Potion Master into the tank? Will it be you?" he asked the firstie at the head of the line, who 'eeped' as Snape glowered at her, bellowing "Ballantyne!"

"G'won, Daphne, wash 'is hair!" Abby said from the row behind her. Daphne swallowed, and dropped the ball. Jeremy picked up the ball, giving it back to his year-mate, while hidden wands were readied. "You can do it!" he whispered to her, as she scrunched up her face and flung the ball.

'BANG!' and with a glower, Severus Snape dropped into the tank.

------------------------


	24. Classes, Week forty, Second year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
24 – Classes, Week forty, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Sunday, May 28, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Gryffindor table: 08:34  
_**------------------------

Mattie reached to refill her coffee cup, only to find the carafe empty. She winced, slurping the last dregs from her cup.

"Out again?" Shaundra asked quietly, in deference to the frantically studying students.

"Yeah, still the same problems with Charms and Transfig," Mattie sighed. Quietly, she complained, "I can just now get through some of the stuff we did in _first_ year! I'm hopeless!"

"Think we could trade? I'll do yours if you do mine?" Arthur asked, to Felicia's snort. "I'm still barely an 'A' on Potions and Herbology."

"I think they're wise to that trick, mate," Charlie said. "Tuck in, we don't have OWLS or NEWTS to worry on."

"Poor bastards," Andrew agreed.

------------------------  
**_Tuesday, May 30, 2000:  
London, Ministry of Magic, Minister's office: 08:23  
_**------------------------

"I can't do it," Cornelius Fudge whispered. "The revenue just isn't there. I can cut the Wizengamot or the DMLE. If I cut the Wizengamot, they'll vote me out of office in a trice, if I cut the DMLE, I'll ..." he swallowed heavily, "I'll have my throat cut."

He turned in his expensive dragon-hide chair, and looked out the magical window frame at the London skyline (despite the Ministry offices being underground). He whispered to himself, "I need gold. Enough for a few months, then the income taxes will come, and I can balance the budget." He turned, and idly flipped through the parchment littering his desk. It was even messier than when he'd had a secretary, but he'd had to economize, and she'd had to go. He glanced at a weeks-old report, and was about to bin it, when a name caught his eye.

Malfoy, Lucille: age 11 Assault by potion, attempted fraud by deception.  
Convicted by Hogsmeade town court, held at Hogwarts

"Malfoy..." he crooned. "I wonder how she likes being held at school. I think she'd like her name and freedom returned. For a price, that is."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 31, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin second-year girl's dorms: 06:00  
_**------------------------

Sprink mouthed the words as they counted down: "Three ... two ... one!" Together, Lee and Sprink ripped the hangings apart on Mattie's four-poster, yelling "Happy Birthday!" and '_Aqueous Frigidus_'! to douse her with freezing water.

"Hey, where is she?" Lee asked.

"Above you. '_Stupefy_!'" Mattie called, and her two dorm-mates splashed face-first into the soaked mattress. She released the harness she'd rigged to the beams, jumping down to roll them over. She sighed, casting '_Enervate_', and telling the two, "I thought we were supposed to be the sneaky house."

"So did I," Lee admitted. "By the way, Happy Birthday."

"Thanks."

------------------------  
**_Wednesday, May 31, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Potions classroom: 09:00  
_**------------------------

The door banged shut, the second-years instantly falling silent. "Lab partners are as assigned (Professor Snape flicked his wand), you will complete the questions and brew Doxycide without your notes. Begin." Arthur groaned quietly, looking at Felicia, his partner, who looked ill. "Full moon?" he whispered, and she nodded. "Go tell the professor, Sprink is," he suggested.

"Miss Cortez, team with Mr. Morton," the professor called as Felicia left the class.

------------------------  
**_Thursday, June 1, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Transfiguration classroom: 13:00  
_**------------------------

Mattie groaned to herself, she was doing her normal (poor) job in Transfig. She just hoped she had been some help to a slightly panicking Lee, who was now on her way to her first Potions final. '_I remember what that was like,_' she recalled.

"Good afternoon," Professor McGonagall said. "For your examination, you will transfigure a cup and saucer into a soup tureen, in your opposite house's colours, so Slytherin to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw and reverse. Please fetch one, and good luck." Mattie groaned to herself.

------------------------

Malfoy was held in a remodeled broom closet, wearing only a hideous orange jumpsuit that was spelled on her and (at Dumbledore's request) a pair of warm woolen socks. She was allowed a self-inking quill, parchment, and a small table to write on, along with her first-year textbooks (but no wand). The entire space was about six by four feet, including her cot and the loo behind a partition. Steel bars locked her in, with a thick glass door a few feet in front of that, equipped with air holes and a silencing spell. A house-elf delivered three meals a day.

Malfoy looked up and sneered, while Sprink and Lee poked their wand tips through the holes. Visible on the wall behind Malfoy was a calendar, with today not yet marked off. Mattie grabbed the two wands, and said, "Don't, guys. Malfoy may be scum, but I'm not going to spray cold water on her when she can't fight back."

"You're too bloody noble, mate."

"Maybe. I've been on the other side of those bars, remember? I don't want to give her another reason to chase after me when she gets out."

"_When_ she gets out? She's never getting out!" Lee said. Mattie simply raised her eyebrow, and walked toward the Great Hall.

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Headmaster's office: 09:33  
_**------------------------

"I must say, this is most unusual," Albus Dumbledore said.

Ms. Merritt agreed. "It is unusual, but, unfortunately, legal." She eyed the Minister; then turned, "Miss Malfoy, the Minister has generously granted you an unconditional pardon. If you come to my town, I don't want to see a hair out of place on you, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lucille said quietly, standing before her 'mother' Narcissa and her solicitor.

"She must be in school," Narcissa said. "It is too late for this year, but I will be enrolling her at Hogwarts next year. Still, she can sit some of her examinations." Lucille spun in shock, but the Headmaster was slowly nodding. "Her wand," he said, passing it to Narcissa. Lucille tried to snatch it, but she was slapped down. "If there is nothing else?" She stood, following her solicitor out the door. Albus did not miss Lucille sliding a Gringotts key into the Minister's hand.

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 2, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Narcissa's flat: 09:52  
_**------------------------

"You're free again, with your name restored, _Lucille_. You will be staying with me when you are not in class, young lady. Is that clear?"

"Young lady?" she snorted. "If my damned disguise spell wasn't faulty, you'd find out who was Master here!"

"Oh, has the vaunted Malfoy cunning failed you?" she snorted. "Let me see, you had some unfortunate underling cast a spell on a charm, then poisoned them so they couldn't betray you." She tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on her teeth, "Undoubtedly Nott. He hasn't been seen in months, he's buried at Azkaban under Lucius' name, I think."

Lucille snarled, and Narcissa slapped her. "Don't do that, dear, you'll get wrinkles before you're thirty. You forgot that Nott was also a Slytherin, and might just take steps against you. Next, you stole the identity of that Colonial, never _dreaming_ that their government might suspect you." Narcissa shook her head, "Foolish, foolish move. Governments, and I am _not_ including your bumbling idiot Fudge in that category, have two advantages over you, Lucille dear. Far more money than they know what to do with, and absolute _scads_ of influence. Sit down, dear, or I'll petrify you."

Lucille threw herself into a chair, Narcissa replied with a stinging hex. "Properly, dear, properly. As a pureblood lady might." Lucille gave her a venomous look, but stood, smoothed her school skirt, and sat. "Legs crossed at the ankles, dear, tucked under the chair leg to the right. I see we'll have to work on deportment this summer. Now where were we? Ah, yes, governments." She tisked, "Another error you made, and that bumbling idiot Fudge later duplicated, was to threaten Mr. Wayne's daughter. Now, I will be the first to admit that your relationship with Draco was not perfect. After all, you were attempting to raise a good little clone of yourself for the Dark Lord, but he persisted in having a mind of his own. Then, when he dared to defy you, you killed him. You lost whatever lingering feelings I might have had for you that day, when you boasted, BOASTED of killing our son."

She closed her eyes for a minute in grief, and Lucille moved. Unfortunately, her skirt rustled, and Narcissa had her wand pointed. "I will treat you, Lucille Malfoy, like you treated Draco," she said in a cold voice. "You will go to school. You will excel in every class. You will sit and eat at the Gryffindor table, you will study with your house. You will gain points for Gryffindor, and may God have mercy on you, as I won't."

"And what about when you are occupied, '_Mother_'? What then? Who will watch me then?" Lucille sneered.

"We shall," the Bloody Baron said, popping into existence with Draco and the other ghosts. "You will not know when we are observing you, Miss Malfoy, but remember, we have far more patience than you do."

"But... but you aren't allowed..."

The Baron waved that off, "There are very few spells that affect ghosts, Miss Malfoy. The restrictions you are thinking of are more of an agreement with the live ones, and in your case, there are no restrictions on us."

"Plot and plan away, Lucille," Narcissa said. "You will in any case, but remember to honestly list both your assets and liabilities. Among your liabilities, remember that you are in the body of an eleven year old girl, and that your opponents are Slytherins that are just as cunning and devious as you are."

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 2, 2000:  
London, Diagon Alley, Gringotts: 10:13  
_**------------------------

"Vault 343, please," Cornelius Fudge told the goblin with a smile. He forced himself to stop fidgeting. '_Soon, you'll have enough gold to keep your good name on every wizard's lips,_' he told himself. He followed after the goblin to the carts, steeling himself for the nauseating ride.

------------------------

"Vault 343," the goblin said, climbing out of the cart and holding up a lantern. "Key, please." Fudge scrabbled it out of a vest pocket, and the goblin opened the vault, giving him the lantern. Fudge dashed in, only to find...

A scrap of parchment on the floor, held down by a knut. The vault was otherwise bare. Fudge looked up as the door boomed closed, the locks clacking shut.

"Noooooo!"

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 3, 2000:  
London, Diagon Alley, Gringotts: 13:10  
_**------------------------

"Mr. Griplink," the head of security said. "Vault 343 was accessed yesterday."

"By whom, Mr. Pinchwaist?"

"Minister Fudge, sir."

"Ah," Griplink said, making a note. "We shall need to send in a cleaning crew. As that vault is a 'Bearer vault', it is now available again. Please remove the automatic locking charms, and any other bits of nastiness Mr. Malfoy used. What do you recommend we do with the corpse?"

"Minister Fudge was married, sir, although our reports indicate it was not a happy one. I suggest we return the body with the standard illegal access disclaimer. It is known he was quite desperate for gold. Attempted burglary of a client's vault will fit very well."

"We shall do nothing to the widow Fudge, or her vault, of course. She is, after all, a valued client, and I'm sure, deeply mournful." He made another note, "Find out when the funeral is, and we will be sure to send a modest arrangement. I shall go myself, to express the bank's sympathy at her loss." He tapped his fingers in thought; saying, "Yes, that should do. Pity Mr. Fudge was killed by his ally. However, we do not need to show what happens when you steal from and torture goblin kin."

------------------------


	25. Classes, Week forty two, Second year

------------------------  
For copyright and disclaimers, please see chapter 1  
------------------------  
25 – Classes, Week forty two, Second year  
------------------------  
**_Thursday, June 15, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall, Slytherin table: 08:32  
_**------------------------

Mattie cackled, and cracking her knuckles, looked over the email.

_To: All Slytherin  
From: Mattie Wayne  
Date: 15 June, 2000  
__Subject: First annual ALL SLYTHERIN cinema night_

_Ladies and Gentlemen:  
Tomorrow, for your entertainment and edification, I present to you one of the great masters of world cinema. These films are ones that have changed the world, and stir fierce debate over which is better. _

"What are you on about?" Emma asked, leaning over to look at the laptop.

Mattie lowered the cover. "You'll find out, my pretty," she cackled.

Lee looked at Sprink, and said, "Uh, oh."

Returning to her email, Mattie wrote:

_There are a total of three films scheduled tomorrow, starting after the leaving feast and ending whenever. However, I must emphasize that this is a Slytherin - only event. Members of other houses (faculty or student) are not welcome, and will suffer a popcorn barrage. BYOB (Bring Your Own Beverage). _

_Enjoy!  
Mattie_

------------------------  
**_Friday, June 16, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Slytherin common room: 20:13  
_**------------------------

The common room was in a good mood. While the house claimed the Quidditch cup, they hadn't won the House cup, with Gryffindor having a fifty-point margin.

The room was packed, with people murmuring about the objects under a privacy spell. Some had tried to disrupt it, and failed. Mattie entered the room, standing on the fireplace hearth, and used two fingers to whistle. "Thank you. I see you all got my email, and welcome to the first annual Slytherin movie night. The movies we're about to see..."

The door opened, and Albus Dumbledore entered, asking, "Am I too late?"

Mattie cleared her throat, asking, "Professor, what house were you Sorted into?"

"Whatever do you mean, Miss Wayne?"

"Were you Sorted into Slytherin in 1851, sir?"

"Why, no, Gryffindor."

"This is a Slytherin event, sir." Mattie scooped up a bowl of popcorn, and grabbed a fistful. There was an undercurrent of chuckling, and several other bowls were readied. "I'm afraid I must ask you to leave, sir, or face the consequences."

"But I..."

"On three!" Professor Vector called from the couch. "One! Two! Three!" she cried, flinging a fistful of popcorn at the Headmaster. People whooped, and popcorn rained down on Albus Dumbledore, who beat a hasty retreat.

"So much for the stuffy British image," Mattie joked, brushing popcorn out of her hair. "Some of you lot don't need to try out for chaser," she added.

"Hope springs eternal," Professor Sinistra said. "Now what do you have lined up for us?"

Mattie dropped the privacy spell on the widescreen TV, "A classic film from 1977. If someone would put the torches out; Professor, if you would push the green arrow on the remote?"

Ominous music played while yellow lettering appeared against a starscape:

A long time ago,

In a galaxy far, far away...

------------------------

"Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope!"

------------------------

"Laugh it up, fuzzball."

------------------------

"No. Try not. Do... or do not. There is no try."

------------------------

Deep, hissing breath, "I am your father... You can destroy the Emperor. He has foreseen this. Join me; together we will rule the galaxy as father and son."

"Don't do it!" Professor Snape hissed. "Don't give in to the evil!" He let out a breath as Luke released his grip on the antenna, plunging to his death in the clouds of Bespin.

------------------------

"And now, young Skywalker ... you will die."

------------------------

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 17, 2000:  
Hogwarts, Great Hall: 08:13  
_**------------------------

Mattie entered to a chorus of whistles and pounding on the tables. Some people started to chant "Dum, dum, dum, dum-de-dum" from the Imperial March.

"What did you lot do last night?" Professor Croft asked.

"Movie night! Oh, man, 'A New Hope' just kicked arse!"

"You're full of it, mate! 'Return' was the best!"

"No bloody way! You're both tossers, 'Strikes Back'!"

"What are they on about?" the Headmaster asked as the mostly-friendly argument raged about the Slytherin table.

"You've never seen the series?" Professor Harry asked.

"Of course!" Professor Croft nodded. "I'm a 'Strikes Back' girl myself."

"'Return' for me," Professor Flitwick volunteered.

"Don't be daft," Professor Snape sneered. "Episode four was clearly Lucas' best work. 'A New Hope' had far superior plotting and characters, almost equal to the Bard."

"Sorry, mate," Professor Vector added. "I'm with Lara, 'Strikes Back' was the best."

"Philistine."

By now the argument had spilled over to the Ravenclaw table, with muggleborn students expressing their opinions, while their wizarding fellows were being clued in. Professor Dumbledore blinked in confusion.

------------------------  
**_Saturday, June 17, 2000:  
Hogwarts Express, Southbound: 10:13  
_**------------------------

Mattie sat on her trunk, discussing the term when Amanda said, "Oy, there's someone flying alongside the train!" People jumped up to look out the two small windows, when they pulled up and out of sight. They just started to settle down again, when someone knocked on the door.

"It's not locked!" Charlie called. "Come in!"

A large fellow in a black and green bodysuit entered, followed by a green-skinned girl in a white and green suit. The twins' jaws dropped as they looked about while Arthur frowned slightly. "Wayne, you're coming with us to Oa."

"Not without knowing who you are," she said, fingering her wand.

"You know who we are!" he said.

"No, I don't," Mattie said, shooting him with a yellow itching hex. "You were both given individual pass phrases by my family. Cough them up, or I get a lot nastier than itches."

Jennie held up her hands, "Mine was 'Your uncle Clark is around the bend.' Please don't spell me."

Mattie grunted and nodded, focusing on Green Lantern, "If you are Mr. Stewart, you're about to find out how nasty I am, with or without a wand. Passphrase?"

He grimaced in distaste. "'Your eyes are as green as the Emerald Isle.' For pity's sake, Wayne, you have a Power Ring, and you need training. If you want to be back on Earth before school starts again, we need to leave now. They're reconstituting the Corps."

"Then shouldn't my backup go too? He doesn't have a ring, though," she asked.

"I don't want one Mattie," Arthur said firmly.

She glanced at him, "Okay. Give me a minute, please?" John Stewart nodded, stepping outside while Jade found a seat as Mattie dug through her trunk. "Don't forget your Battery," she advised with a grin. Looking at the silent students, she said, "I remember some of you. Let's see, you two are Roshawn and Sandra..."

"Shaundra," she corrected. "You're JADE! A Green Lantern!"

"Not nearly as grumpy as Mr. Stewart is," Mattie added, locking her trunk.

"I heard that!" he called.

'_You were supposed to_,' people thought.

"Sprink, could you take care of my trunk, and tell Amy I'll be off planet for a few weeks? I'll try to get back in time for the meeting with the union." Mattie warded the trunk. "Okay, I'm ready. What do we do?"

"We fly."

30

(A/N: Above quotes are property of Lucasfilms, Inc.)


End file.
